


Dark Wire: Mars

by Daedamnatus



Series: Dark Wire [1]
Category: Original Work, Science-Fiction - Fandom
Genre: Criminal Behaviors, Darkness, Depression, Gen, Gore, Hate, Hope, Horror, Insanity, Love, Military Science Fiction, Psychoanalysis, Science Fiction, Space Exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daedamnatus/pseuds/Daedamnatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First episode. Ashley is a psychologist. She's assigned to consult for private and federal corporations across the Solar system. When things get complicated on a Martian military base, she partners up with Special Agent Rivera to get to the bottom of an ice cave where three prospectors have gone rogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mars - 01

 

 

**Main Terraforming Station**

**Mars, 2241.**

  


Blue sky surrounded the orbital elevator station as capsules were sent to the ground, providing tools and perishables to the engineers. Between the biomass spheres, the greenhouses and lodging modules, trees and bushes grew in natural, chaotic patches.

“I’m going to miss these afternoon hikes,” said Henry Ferrad between two pantings. “And our morning debates, Doctor.”

She found a sitting spot on the orange rocks at the end of the cliff they were walking on. Every day for the past week she would accompany Anthropology Professor Ferrad while he gave conseling to the archeologists working on the nearby sites.

“It’s been fascinating, Henry.” She looked at the tall grass growing on the plateau behind Ferrad. “I’m sorry the excavations didn’t pan out.”

He ran a tired hand over his bald head, furrowing his thick brow at the horizon.

“I find solace in the journey, not the results. After all, if there are fossilized traces of ancient civilizations on this planet, they can wait a few more years to be discovered.”

“You’re lucky. Your patients are actually that: patient. I have to deal with manic depressions and workaholics.”

She waved her hand at the water bottle he handed to her. Ferrad smirked and took a gulp before sighing nostalgically at the valley.

“The work is peaceful. If you’d like, I could arrange for you to attend my class in Cambridge. If you’re thinking of changing course...”

Politely smiling back, Ashley pulled herself from her uncomfortable rocky seat and only wanted one thing: returning to her office and file some paperwork. Was it either boredom or a barely hidden promiscuous attitude, but Ferrad was getting the wrong idea about her.

“I’m good,” she answered and slung her bag more securely around her shoulders. “Don’t take it personally, but I really like this job. And this life.”

“You need committment, I respect that.” Ferrad got up and arched his back to stretch himself tall. “We’re both looking for stability, then. And what better place to find our path than on top of this plateau, where ancient gods would claim their home in the olden tales.”

Keeping her cool, she felt the need to temper his ambitions when they made their way back to town.

“Now, now, Professor. Do I need to re-evaluate your psychological profile? You sound like you’re getting delusions of grandeur.”

“Oh, Ashley. When will I meet a woman as intriguing as you are?”

Her guest module was a mere cabin of high-impact plastics and aluminium, large enough to suit four adults and their belongings, but she had insisted on having her own space for consultations and privacy purposes. She didn’t pack much: her recording cam, a laptop and two sets of clothing. Wherever she went, keeping souvenirs was the hardest temptation she needed to resist otherwise she would need to pack a second bag. Her minimal bagage, materially and personally speaking, was what made her a preferred choice as a psychiatric therapist.

Ashley Huong had branched out from a promising career in pharmaceutical engineering with her family’s business when corporations opened programs in the university of medicine in San Francisco. When she found out that she could specialize to go on colonial missions, she jumped on the occasion and did some reading on psychology. She hadn’t told her parents since they were still supporting her, and by the time came when she had to go on her first mission on Lunar Base, they heard the truth. Their daughter wasn’t going to take over the family business.

The lights progressively turned on in her room as the night fell on the valley. Outside, the blue sky was turning a warm tone of pink with orange clouds. She was brushing her teeth when her phone buzzed. She’d sworn she’d switched the ringtone up after receiving notice of her new assignment to another base. Spitting the minty foam into the sink she washed her mouth with water and quickly picked up.

“Yes, hello?”

“Doctor Huong?”

“This is she.” How else could they have had her number? The male voice spoke to her, very professional and cold-toned.

“This is Lieutenant Gus Morroe with the Interstellar Security Forces. It was brought to my attention that you were stationed on Mars and available to assist any urgent matters, is that correct?”

“Yes,” she replied, discretely trying to clear her throat. “What is--?”

“I’m sorry for calling on such short notice,” he interrupted. There was a distant hissing sound outside. “We need to verify certain details before we can go further. What is your function and are your UN credentials up to date?”

“Uh...” She hit her palm against her forehead for hesitating. “Mission Specialist for psychological evaluations. My credentials are valid until March of 2247.”

The sound of repulsor turbines was not so distant any longer and she could barely hear the Lieutenant’s voice in her ear piece.

“Good. Doctor, I’m sorry but we’ll need you to promptly gather your things and step outside. Your ride is waiting.”

The chopper had landed in the clearing just outside her module, loud, roaring engines made it hard for her to procrastinate and stall her decision.

“I’ll be right there,” she replied to her caller.

With her unique travel bag, she gave a last tour of her cabin and almost forgot her toothbrush before stepping out. Two soldiers stood outside, one foot on the railing of the transport while they had their rifles hung from their webbing or slung around their back. She accepted one man’s aiding hand to pull her inside and she nodded, unable to see their faces through their masks. Their visors were opaque, and she rarely saw ISF troops removing their helmet in front of civilians.

“Hang on,” one of them warned her, directing a handle for her to grab. The craft lifted up fast. “It’s going to get shaky.”

There were no seats in the atmospheric transport, only two benches and reaching for the rail was difficult with her short height. The combat suited men made her feel even tinier. She didn’t know how many layers of kevlar there were but it sure intended for them to take a heavy beating. When she imagined that those were the same men who’d fought the Restoration war, she felt honored to work beside them. The hatch closed and she needed to move towards a small viewport to see where they were going. The sun was far away to the west. On Earth, it would have looked twice as big.

“We’re heading north,” she noticed.

“That’s right, ma’am.”

Ashley turned to see who had spoken. Three visored and armored faces were looking at her. She couldn’t tell if they were smiling, frowning or assuming that she was stupid. She had to avoid thinking about what else was going on in their heads when looking at a woman. The transporter picked up some speed and she sat back on the hard bench, deafened by the noise of the engines. Below, the last sunrays cast shadows behind small pinewood trees on the rust-colored plateau.

“ETA is thirty minutes,” continued one of them, and she looked up to see that he was looking through the window with her.

There were campsites and bases all over the planet. While most colonists lived in Erida, capital city in the Cydonia region better known for its touristic appeal with the Face of Mars, the rest of the planet was a playground for scientists and prospectors. Manufacturing corporations were born from exploiting natural resources and sending mining ships to the asteroid belt. Deimos and Phobos were the main relay bases to monitor impact risks. Once or twice a day, detonations could be heard every time a meteor was deviated from its trajectory, shot from turrets the natural satellites, or by an ISF flag ship.

The soldier walked away from her, hanging from the safety rail while clutching his rifle so that it wouldn’t swing around with the turbulence. The three of the men spoke together in hushed tones, she couldn’t overhear them despite their electronic voices. Ashley didn’t do small talk when she was assigned to a classified mission. Whenever the UN officials required her services, her salary was doubled with extra for expenses. And her work was minimal: a formality to allow for corporate partners to keep on pressuring their employees. She did her interviews, sent her reports and flew out. Her consultations were short and unextensive so as not to let people call her a corporate tool.

Despite it all, she still held on to her professional calling. Mental illnesses were considered the first cause for unproductivity, and directly linked to skyrocketting suicide rates for the past fifty years. After the novelty of outer space colonization, the pioneering enthuasiam faded and people found their routine, became homesick. And when they were born in space, on extraterrestrial worlds, the awkwardness made all things worse.

Her outdoors gear of a parka and heavy duty jeans began to feel insufficient, and folding her arms tightly made her look unprepared. Even with the use of greenhouse effects, the cold weather was still cold.

  



	2. Mars - 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains harsh language and a form of torture.

 

**Feris Base Alpha**

The carrier was finally landing and frost covered the outside of the viewport. Hatch opened, the soldiers got out and she saw them landing at least two meters below, boots crunching pure white snow. Ashley waited for the gap to narrow before she could do a stunt and she slipped, realizing too late that the edge of the craft was frozen.

“Woah, easy,” laughed the man who’d got down last, grabbing her by the elbow. “Can’t wait to see you make an airdrop.”

Her boots were nowhere as thick as theirs and she couldn’t feel her toes by the time they got to the base. A military base, by the looks of it. There was a security watchtower, a turret, barricades...

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Feris Base,” said the one who’d helped her get off the carrier. “Lieutenant Morroe will be briefing you shortly.”

The basic modules in which she’d spent the past two weeks had nothing on the armored building she entered. With blast doors and an actual airlock, the base must have dated before the terraforming. Its design was at least sixty years old with little meteor impacts, rust and cracks along its concrete walls.

“Specialist Huong,” an electronically enhanced voice greeted her in the dimly lit corridor. She approached, feet rapping on metal grates as she met an ISF soldier who removed his helmet before extending his hand to her. “Lieutenant Morroe, welcome to Feris Base Alpha.”

He was forty, forty-five with short, graying dark hair. From his stubble she could tell he didn’t regularly shave.

“Pleased to be here, sir.”

“No _sir_ for you. You can call me Gus. Let’s get you acquainted with your new home for the forseable future...”

It wasn’t like she had plans or anything. Ashley bit her lips and carried her bag to the small room with cabinets, a tiny water room and an empty desk. She couldn’t have anyone in for a consultation, and she understood that this was an officer’s cabin. Next door, the dorm was open and the beds were neatly made with hospital folds. Everything smelled of mold, rust and oil. She held back a cough when she met Morroe in what he described as the captain’s office. This wasn’t a ship but he seemed to act like he was in charge.

There were other people in the room: another man donned with a stained white labcoat, and a civilian who was equipped with optics - augmented cybernetic glasses. She had the impression that she wasn’t going to meet any other women in this show.

“Hello,” she said.

“We’re going to have Doctor Ashley Huong interview the suspects,” said Morroe, sitting behind his desk. “Since you boys don’t seem to know how interrogations work, even with my special toolbox, I have to resort to a more drastic measure.”

“You make it sound like it was your idea,” retorted the labcoat, he had a heavy Eastern European accent.

“What does it matter,” groaned Morroe. “Get out of my sight, the two of you.”

Ashley stood aside as the men left the room, and she got shot with bitter gazes on their way out.

“I apologize for this, Doctor. Or can I call you Ashley?”

He motioned toward the seat in front of him and she tried to sit casually, despite the fact that her nerves were balling up in her throat.

“It would be fair,” she answered, and shook her head with a polite hand up when he offered her a cigarette. “What is this mission about?”

He put his feet on the desk in a nonchallant demeanor, closing his pack of smokes and stowing them back in his pocket.

“For the past three months we’ve been hunting local militia members. We counted half a dozen sleeper cells. They’ve been around for three years but they hired private security to do their protection... Anyway, we didn’t call you to dig your nose into the corporate politics. Two days ago, one of the contractors was found dead in the premises. We have a few leads but the fat cats got cold feet and threatened to shut down the outpost if we don’t solve this case before the real winter comes. And we don’t want that because this is a good place to train our troops.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, hesitant, “but why choose me? I never worked with ISF before.”

“Sweetheart, we don’t get a say on who gets to do what. Like us, you’re placed on the chess board by the officials and the brass... Anyway you’ll be working with the feds. We’re just here to get you nice and cozy.”

“I still don’t know what more I would bring to the table that a military psychologist wouldn’t.”

“You’re a civilian consultant, are you not?”

He pulled a small holographic handheld from a pouch hanging from his flak vest. He pressed a touch-key and hid the device from her prying eyes.

“Time to see what’s been cooking in the pot. You’ll get introduced to the rest of the crew over chow.”

Leading her down more dark corridors, over the oppressing sound of old air conditionning fans she could hear muffled cries. They stopped and turned to shouting. Morroe unlocked a door which slid within a bulkhead wall, they went into an observation room. She stood in front of a one-way mirror window. On the other side, there was a man chained to a table as he was sitting on a metal chair. Blindfolded, his ears were covered with headphones tightly secured with duct tape. Thrashing and sweating, his agonizing moans and screams filled the observation room until Morroe pressed a button to mute the sound.

“This is private security officer Logan Harris, with HiSec. He was last seen sending messages to the victim’s fiancée when we caught him. Obviously, he had no other qualms with the man he supposedly didn’t kill, even though they did bootcamp together on Titan. We don’t know if he lied and he hasn’t changed his speech for forty eight hours... This is actually quite unnecessary, the two lackeys you saw leaving just forgot to unplug him. Do you mind, Ashley?”

She looked back at the Lieutenant, aware that her eyes looked like saucers at his request. The man named Harris screamed again, tears flowing down his drenched face. His wrists were bloody from all the thrashing and pulling at his handcuffs. Morroe’s hand came beneath her face, making her startle and she saw that he was handing her a key.

Registering his merciful expression, she took the key and headed out of the room to open the unlocked door right beside her. Immediately assaulted with the smell of filth and blood, she went up to the panting and exhausted man, and tried to remove his blindfold. His head jerked away and he shouted.

“Fuck off!” One of his eyes was able to see her and he changed his attitude, yet still scared.

“Don’t move,” she said, even though he probably couldn’t hear her.

She gently pulled a corner of the duct tape to get the headphones off. Harris groaned, relieved and Ashley tentatively listened to the sound he’d been subjected to. She frowned. Listening to hardcore thrash metal sure was efficient to make anyone go mad.

“Listen to me,” she said. “Your name is Logan, the ISF Lieutenant told me. My name is Ashley, I’m a psychologist and you don’t belong here. I’m going to remove your restrains but I need to make sure you won’t lunge at me.”

Shaking with fright and confusion, Harris nodded, his eyes imploring her. It was risky and she knew it was a test. She showed him the key and pressed the switch. With a dry snap, the cuffs opened and he was able to relax his arms and get up. Unable to see his eyes under his thick brow, Ashley registered his rapid breath, and the sudden change of heart beat. Violently, and suddenly she smacked her hand on the table. The sound resonated and made Harris jump in his seat.

“Snap out of it,” she ordered. “What you got here was nothing. It could be worse if it turns out you could do more than just killing a man. Are you intending to go home at some point?”

Even to fuck his best friend’s fiancée. The possibilities were endless for a young man like him.

“I--... please don’t make me talk to them again.”

He was latching on. Ashley took a step back even though she didn’t want to show signs of weakness.

“Then talk to me, Logan. What’s your next move?”

Slouching over the table, he playfully poked at his scraped wrists, as if the pain made him feel better. Another red light. Ashley notified Morroe by looking at the mirror and approximately where he was standing if he hadn’t changed places.

“We were going to move out of Erida City,” Harris muttered. “With her two kids and a mortgage, there was nothing Kyle could have done worse. He had a drinking problem... He brought it upon himself.”

“That’s no excuse to stab people in the back.”

“I didn’t stab him, I put--”

She wanted to smile, but analysing his face closely made her sense his shocked realization, accompagnied with the guilt and the fear. Logan backed up in his chair, eyes so wide she thought they would start to pop out.

“I want a lawyer.”

“You should have thought of this sooner instead of suffering in here for almost forty-eight hours.”

He sighed, his breath shaking with anger and frustration. Like many culprits, he’d wanted to wait out beyond the two days until there would be no evidence found and they’d be forced to let him go.

“This became a federal investigation,” she explained softly. “They can keep you here for as long as they want. Now all you can do is stop being a pain in the ass and tell me everything. They could keep torturing you for the hell of it. This place looks very boring.”

Logan’s murderous stare almost made her shudder. This wasn’t personal, this was just a job. She needed to convince herself that it would be over soon, she just needed to get him where she wanted.

“How much do they pay you?” he asked, quite calmly for a man who hadn’t slept or eaten in two days. “How does it feel to be used and served on a platter to potential predators? There’s got to be so many out there. The things you’ve seen... Even I can’t imagine.”

“I’m doing my job,” she shot back. “And stop trying to play with my head, it’s right where it should be. I won’t be killing anyone just because I’d get sad.”

He smiled, hands flat on the table but his eyes were sizing her up. She could have been naked in that room, his reaction would have been similar. He spoke again, and his voice was more confident.

“You do seem like a sad person. I’m surprised you even had the stones to come here.”

“You’re enjoying this,” she said, taking a seat across the table from him. Ashley smiled but this time it was an act. “It’s not about proving your innocence anymore, no... You want to be here, with me, and play cat and mouse.”

“So are you. Ashley, is it? You probably spent years on your degree, even more time learning your trade, studying nutcases and feeling quite superior, because you’re not insane. You’re normal or healthy and sane. People like you never step too close to the edge, they never venture to the dark side to really know what they should be hunting. It’s all about the reports, the labels, putting files in a box. When you could be so much more.”

Unable to follow his rambling, she whispered to herself, if only to keep a hold of her senses.

“Oh my god, you sound crazy right now.”

Harris leaned forward, piercing black eyes digging into her brain.

“You’re right, it was just killing. It was so easy... It was nothing compared to what I truly wanted to do. And now that you’re here, it’s the open door to a million possibilities. Aren’t you afraid, Ashley? All of these men around you, stalking your every move. There’s probably a bunch of them jerking off and thinking about you right now. Do you like thinking about that?”

She pinched her lips tight, confronting him in silence while he relished in seeing her decomposed. It was alright, though, because it was over. The door hissed opened in her back and steps came in. Harris looked up to a point over her head and his face flushed drained from his blood. Ashley turned around to look at a trooper standing behind her, he was wearing a slightly different ISF combat suit and she still couldn’t see his face through his black visor.

“Thank you, Doctor Huong, you may now leave.”

Measuring the state of her progress with Harris now that this trooper had interfered, she slowly got up and looked one last time at the man sitting with his bloodied hands.

“You didn’t just end a life,” she added. “You ruined five. Five lives.”

The masked soldier waited for her to finish and leave, then he approached Harris with a new pair of restrainers.

Once out of that room and breathing relatively fresh air again, Ashley tried to calm herself even if she didn’t know that her heart rate was elevated and that she’d been fuming with rage. Morroe found her in the hallway, pulled out a smoke and lit it up.

“You’re efficient,” he told her, puffing a cloud of vapor over his head. “You just went in there and he served himself on a silver platter. We ought to use you more often.”

Ashley scoffed bitterly and tried not to put her hands in her pockets. It was considered impolite and rude among the military. She crossed her arms together, pressing against her breasts but she needed the comfort.

“I’d rather stick to desk jobs and being able to tune out the crazy.”

He shrugged, lifting kilos of armor and equipment in the process.

“You look fine to me. For someone who never worked with us before, you’re pretty good at digging up the sociopath out of this supposedly innocent farmboy.”

Perhaps too good. She couldn’t get someone locked up for crimes they had yet to commit.

“What happens now? After I send my report you’ll be able to process your murderer.”

Morroe shook his head condescendingly in the middle of her sentence.

“You don’t report to me, sweetie. SCI are in charge of the case. I’m only here to keep the seat warm until they have all the sufficient evidence to wrap up and get the fuck out.”

“Where are these federal agents anyway?”

“You just met him,” he answered, cocking a puzzled brow. “He’s probably double-checking the facts with our perp.”

“ _That_ guy? I thought he was just muscle.” Turning towards the door to the observation room, she resisted the urge to go in and watch what was going on. “Couldn’t he have interrogated Harris earlier?”

Yanking his head towards the end of the hallway Morroe lead her away from the block. His tobacco smell was strangely appealing but made her want to cough her lungs out.

“He was busy with the terrorist problem. He told the tech guys to have fun with Harris while he worked the other case.”

“Not sure I’d advise that. One man to deal with all of this?”

“People get by,” he commented, casually detached. “Saves money that way, and I don’t think I’d want to deal with two of those weirdos.”

They got back to the dorms and the door of her private cabin. It really was a small base.

“Meet back at the mess hall in twenty. If you ever get lost, just follow the sweet smell of bland mashed potatoes.”

She politely chuckled and got back in her room. Having the smell of Harris in her sinuses was unacceptable. Unfortunately, her idea of a shower was reduced to a quick rince in low-pressured, lukewarm water while she kept her long black hair tied in a loose bun on top of her head. The mirror over the sink was cracked, and the energy-saving automatic lights would flicker and die each passing minute.

Getting dressed in her ever neutral gray work clothes, which looked closer to an engineer crew’s uniform than a psychology specialist’s civilian clothes, she obediently made herself look proper and headed out. As expected, the smell of potatoes filled the corridors and many voices were audible. Men chatting more or less lively, eager to gather around to eat dinner.

Unavoidably, she heard words of discouragement in her head, hurtful remarks and reminders that she couldn’t do everything. She couldn’t be around men who would normally hide their faces at all times, especially around civilians. Would it be considered too quirky to grab a plate and take it to her room? Would Morroe be offended if she didn’t break bread with him?

All the while the doubts gnawed at her, she was making her way down to the mess hall - following the smells, as Morroe had advised. The soldiers looked at her and smiled, commented amongst each other about her presence but never sounded disrespectful. She got in line towards the food processor and men would turn around to say hello. When she had her platter of mashed potatoes, synthesized chicken with gravy and green beans, she grabbed a can of soda and a bread roll before heading towards the one of the two long tables. ISF filled half ot he room, they were a dozen or more, mixed with a few grizzled techs and workers from Feris Base Alpha.

There were too many hands waving and invitations to sit near someone specifically but she laughed to herself and looked around to see Morroe eating at a corner. He wore a tired white t-shirt with his cargo pants, dog tags dangling around his neck as he got up, tapping his table knife against his bottle of beer.

“Everyone, this is your Lieutenant speaking... shut the fuck up!” He cleared his voice and continued when silence was made. “I want to introduce you all to the newest addition to our crew: Mission Specialist Doctor Ashley Huong.”

He hurried her to get up and wrapped a friendly and muscley arm around her shoulders.

“She’s a shrink. So, don’t ask her to put a finger up your arse hole. Do that in your own time, with your own fucking fingers. And she doesn’t give a shit about your crabs, your herpes or your PTSD. She is here for one thing only: solving murders and kicking ass. Now, eat up.”

A plettory of approving shouts and laughs followed and she quickly sat down again. She didn’t want to ignore anyone suffering from a form of post-traumatic stress disorder. In no way did she want people to think that she was a corporate slut or some fed sent there to bust their asses. But in the end, it was just a job and not the rest of her life. She had to talk to the fed and ask how long before she could get out of there.

It was difficult to process how quickly they ate, and how much was said around her, both simultaneously. Morroe was already wiping his plate with his roll while he discussed sports with his corporal. Opposite from her, a short but stocky green-eyed private kept avoiding her gaze, blushing and making his freckles look even more red on his face. His fellows made fun of him.

Ashley didn’t want to talk, surrounded by all this testosterone and exaggerated displays of manliness. She simply finished her meal and got up to leave before everyone else, eager to return to the calm and quiet of her cabin. Having her own personal space felt like a privilege now that she’d seen the number of occupants who had to cramp into a communal dorm, share a bathroom and still work together all day. Opening up her laptop, she settled on the thin mattress they called a bunk and began typing her report into an encrypted archive. Rushed jobs were frustrating, and made her work seem shoddy on paper. It was a good thing that only military and federal officials would have access to these reports, stowing them somewhere after making good use of her expertise. They would probably never see the light of day if all ended well. 


	3. Mars - 03

 

Someone knocked twice at her door and she frowned, annoyed that one could take the freedom to bother her unannounced. Ashley waited, frozen on her bed Indian style. Maybe the person would think she was asleep and they’d leave? Maybe they were trying to pick on her like boys would pick on girls when they were too shy or too proud to talk to them. But they knocked again, harder this time.

“Doctor Huong,” said a male voice. “This is Special Agent Rivera, SCI. May I have a word?”

So this wasn’t an ISF trooper who wanted to hit on her. Ashley got up and opened the door.

“Sorry,” she embarrassingly said, stepping out to stand in the hallway. “I was working on my report.”

The man in the black tactical suit took a glance inside her room before focusing back on her face. He was a head well taller than her. His face was younger than Morroe’s, perhaps in his mid-thirties, with a light stubble that matched the sandy brown color of his buzzed hair. A strong jaw line hung over his black turtle-neck undersuit.

“I thought I could recount the past events with you,” he replied, earnest. “But I don’t want to disrupt your work. Can you see me as soon as you have a moment?”

Working with people was complicated. Not only did she need to analyze her patients, but her partners too when they had to stay on the same page and when she’d would go off trail, unavoidably. And dissecting her collaborators’ brains and souls always drew them away. Partnerships sucked. Ashley met his hazel eyes and held her breath.

“Of course,” she nodded, changing her mind. “We can do this now?”

She had to get it over with and not let parasitic thoughts get into her head. Nodding back, Rivera stretched his lips thin. It wasn’t a smile. He probably never smiled.

“You should wear shoes.”

Looking down, Ashley wiggled her toes on the cold metal floor and went back into her room. When she got out again she had gained an inch in height, and held her tablet like a shield close to her chest as they walked down the dark corridors.

“We have free access to the operational center,” told Rivera. “No one can enter beside myself, Lieutenant Morroe and you, if you wish to consult our files. HiSec are restricted to transit areas only.”

“That’s good to know.” Evidently, mercs were not to be trusted, Ashley made a mental note of it. “I wasn’t aware that I’d be consulting for SCI before I arrived here.”

He appeared to process the information silently and they had a double blast-door in view up ahead.

“Last minute assignments are common these days.”

A wave of green laser rays flashed from the top of the door, swept through them twice and they were allowed to enter the computer room. It wasn’t as clean and sleek as the recent kinds of operational centers, but it had enough to get a team up to speed with a 3-D map table. The door closed behind them with a thud. Standing near the holographic projector, Ashley saw the round helmet decorated with geometric designs that was Rivera’s helmet, sitting peacefully on the corner of a desk.

She counted half a dozen faces and names, both female and male, belonging to different age groups and associations displayed on a wall-screen like a “most wanted” list for bounty hunters.

“They all look like they’ve got some sociopathic tendencies.”

Looking up from his tablet, Rivera turned towards the headhunt board.

“Are you facially profiling them?”

Mocking herself with a shrug, she sat on a stool to operate the central table.

“It’s a thing.”

“I’ve only read scraps of studies about lasting behavioral effects on facial tissues and stereotypes.”

She accessed into a main frame with her name and birthdate, then she was given a login identification. Rivera focused back on his device, concern weighing on his brow. In his shoes, she wouldn’t trust her either, not yet anyway. Taking a slow, deep breath, Ashley tapped the air keyboard and validated her UN credentials into the secure database.

“Case number three-nine-oh-bravo-echo-six.”

She followed Rivera’s indications and found the files. The first one dated back a year ago.

“I’ve got homework to do,” she commented.

As she progressively found out about the suspicions of espionage, leading towards the federal investigation over HiSec reinforcements hired three months ago, she felt observed, studied.

“From what I saw today you won’t need all the background intel,” he told her. “Knowing too many details could thwart your perspective.”

“Is this about Harris?”

Rivera leaned back against the desk, mechanically toying with something small in his hand.

“Your approach was risky and you had minimal information to begin with. I wouldn’t have approved of your intervention hadn’t Morroe let you in.”

Anyone with the intention to manipulate her would have taken a more deceptive route, first with flattery and then with a boast of their own knowledge. Ashley was used to doing work that no one else wanted to do. And she interrogated Harris because it had to be done - the man was being needlessly driven mad. What if Rivera had walked in sooner? Would he have gotten a similar confession?

“So, what is it exactly,” she shot back. “Were you not expecting anyone to step in or would you rather I asked your permission?”

“I was the one who requested the presence of a psychologist,” he explained, his stare was hard but not upset. “I didn’t expect to see how you handled yourself; it was reckless of you.”

Holding his gaze, Ashley jumped on her analyst saddle and immediately identified the bitter, lone fighter who needed to assert his dominance over a female to establish his authority.

“The decisions I make serve only my mission, Agent Rivera. If you really had a problem with how I work, you would have stepped in before Harris got confident enough to provoke me. You would have tried to get me out of there when I got him out of his cuffs.”

He looked at the object he held in his hand before placing it in the middle of the table.

“No one is being held on trial here, but I suggest you quickly get over your competitive streak.” He paused, and she looked at the thumb drive. Almost no one used those now with secure cloud storage options. “I’d like your opinion on this.”

“Okay,” she sighed, taking the drive. “Although you wouldn’t call me competitive if you didn’t need to measure up to what I can do.”

She had pitched her voice slightly higher mid-sentence, amused with his lack of humor. She hadn’t thought of bringing her tablet to check what was contained on the thumb drive.

“I wouldn’t claim to have your mastery of behavioral analysis,” Rivera asserted, crossing his arms defensively against his chest. “However if there’s anything I could share to help you...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do things by the book. Some of these people may even already have psychological records.”

He nodded once, sharply.

“That’s what you’re holding.”

“Why are they not in the classified archives?” She chewed the inside of her cheek and revised her question. “You know what? Talk to me again tomorrow. I’d rather get to ask the pertinent questions to the suspects myself.”

Rivera unfolded his arms and changed the holographic display to a large map of the arctic area.

“It won’t be easy. The base has lost contact with four of them since yesterday and their last known location was here.”

Beneath Feris Alpha, a tunnel lead into the ground, hundreds of meters below. There was no schematic detail to show what it looked like down there.

“Did they send a search team?”

“Yeah,” he replied heavily. “That’s us.”

  


##

It was past two in the morning when she lied on her mold-smelling cot, trying to find sleep despite the images of dark tunnels and strange marsian caves bouncing around in her head. Ashley had been on a speleology class outing once, when she was fourteen, in the Cydonia valley. The red and orange rocks were illuminated in places by artificial lighting to make things more dramatic for tourist sightings, but she had been more intrigued by the geometrical stones many times her size, that seemed to invite giants to step deeper into the underground.

Every time she was pulled out of her dreaming daze, she thought of Rivera and groaned with irritation. It had been years since anyone had criticized the way she worked. His opinion being legitimate or not wasn’t the question. Ashley had prided herself in always keeping her ego in check, however contradictory that could sound. Her work wasn’t just a summary of thoughts, but a path towards deeper truths and unpalatable reality within the minds of people. Her own personality had no place there.

Rivera was wrong, she convinced herself trying to find solace in her decade of work and learned lessons. His grasp of behavioral science was strictly limited to criminal cases and highly stressful situations, a narrow range of circumstances in the large spectrum of the human living experience. She’d had several patients who were smart enough to talk back and divert her questions with more questions. Some of those were scientists, economists and even other psychologists. Playing by the rules was what robots did and that wasn’t enough. Rivera would have to adjust and learn on his own terms about her trade.

It was late when she woke up. By military standards, eight was way past breakfast time and she was awakened by the rumble of treading boots and loud chatting. Reluctantly activating the shower again, she brought herself to wash her hair even without access to a hair dryer. There was barely enough warm water to finish rincing properly. Someone knocked at the door and she ended her grooming routine with more swearing than she’d said in the past year.

With a towel wrapped around her, still shivering because her long, wet hair sticking to her back, she hurried to get to the door. It slid open with the speed of a fleeing squirrel and Rivera was standing there, eyelids peeled up in utter surprise before he quickly turned away, taking interest in the hallway instead of her cleavage.

“I’m sorry, I’m in the room next door and I thought you were up... I can come back later.”

“I’ll be just a minute,” Ashley said before letting the door shut.

She quickly wrapped her hair in the towel and got dressed, trying not to let herself panic over the thought that Rivera had almost seen her naked. She put on an extra shirt under her jacket and warm socks to keep her toes from going numb. Five minutes later, she fought against her tangled hair. His voice sounded muffled but she heard him quite clearly through the walls. That simple fact made her freeze in place as she pulled on her comb.

“Almost done?”

“Almost!” she shouted back, and tied her humid hair in a bun.

Using a pocket mirror she checked that there were no crusts in her eyes before heading out. A few seconds later Rivera appeared from the door closest to hers, distractingly reading something from his tablet. When his eyes came up from it he gave her a quick smile.

“I studied the files you sent me last night,” Ashley began, eager to move on from the awkward moment. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the hired security personel but there’s definitely something fishy about the prospectors who disappeared. Neither of them expressed any sort of concern for their team’s welfare. And I’ve been around prospectors for years, their first priority is survival.”

People arrived and Rivera took a step back, letting a couple of ISF officers make their way between them. Ashley looked at them getting out of earshot before Rivera spoke to her.

“Do you want coffee? I know a good place for that and it’s not the mess hall.”

She welcomed the idea of avoiding crowds to talk about the investigation. However, being alone with someone she knew nothing about made her fidget in her boots. She kept a good arm length between Rivera and herself as they went to a side of the base she didn’t expect.

A greenhouse. Of course, Mars was completely terraformed and it wasn’t unusual to see plants and trees grow sporadically across the landscape, but this was close to the polar cap. She had lost the habit of visiting indoor gardens and this one was quite large and the alleys were maintained by cleaning robots. The shedding leaves were picked up and placed in compost bins every hour, recycling the organic matter in real time. There were no birds but bees and butterflies were kept for pollenization.

“Why is no one else in here?” she asked, sitting down on a bench at the beginning of a curvy path between a shrub and a small oak. It was a warm and peaceful place. “It’s so at odds with the rest of the base.”

Rivera brought two paper cups that he’d gotten from a dispenser, and remained standing while she took a delightful sip of the soy latte.

“Because of memories,” he answered. “This is where Harris killed his friend.”

Instinctively, her gaze fell to the paved floor, seeking traces of blood.

“The bots made a mess of the body,” Rivera continued, hesitant as he watched her drink her hot beverage. “They were programmed to convert organic matter into compost, not to preserve a crime scene. So... These trees and flowers have been fed with a lot more protein than they ought to.”

Suspiciously looking at the roots of the flora, Ashley arched an eyebrow.

“You’re messing with me.”

“I wish.”

He sat down on the bench across from her. The truth would figure in the ISF report if she checked it out from the ops center.

“So what’s our plan to find the missing prospectors?” she asked him.

The way he held his coffee, with fingers meshed together around the cup, he seemed more in his thoughts than thirsty.

“We have to make the descent, there’s no other way.”

“You suspect that there could be a secret base down there, your sleeper cell,” she suggested. “Why don’t you have a real team dedicated to hunt down terrorists? Working alone doesn’t seem safe.”

“My unit is specialized in autonomous solutions, we’re spread across the systems and we were recruited based on our ability to work alone.”

“With unlimited resources,” she complemented, giving him an understanding smirk.

“It’s a strong notion but, yes. We’re allowed to call for backup at any time, and make use of experts in different fields.”

Which was why she was there. But even as a mission specialist she needed to adjust to the idea of teaming up with a criminal investigator in an anti-terrorism crusade.

“SCI doesn’t think those people are missing, am I wrong?” she thought out loud. “Because they’re still on site, so to speak. And they’re not expecting you to be in any kind of danger here.”

“There is plenty of reinforcement if I need it.”

She looked at the exit of the greenhouse, on instinct, only to see that no one was there.

“Morroe doesn’t care much about the investigation, does he?”

From pensive to suspecting in his attitude, Rivera leaned back and crossed booted shins. His dark eyes pierced into hers as he spoke rather sarcastically.

“We’ll be fine, Doctor. As long as we follow protocol, there should be nothing to worry about.”

Rolling her eyes up to the transparent dome ceiling, she only saw blue skies between the branches and leaves of the greenhouse. Eventually she got up and decided that she could care less about his opinion. Tossing her empty cup into a recycling processor, she turned and got surprised when he was already tailing her.

“Okay, give me a copy of your protocol then. I don’t want to head unprepared into an arctic cave.”

  



	4. Mars - 04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journey into the cave

**Feris Base Alpha, Excavating Site**

**Central Elevator Shaft**

  
  


“No one used this thing ever since last week according to the records,” shouted Morroe over the racket of hydraulics and gas exhausts. Machines were perpetually reinforcing the ducts and preventing the shafts from freezing over all through the underground. Ashley gave another risky look downward.

“It’s about time we have it updated, then.” She secured the safety harness over her shoulders, uncomfortably tight and chaffing between her thighs. Her bulky plastic helmet was no more helpful. Beside her, Rivera stood tall and casual wearing his own grappling equipment. Mountain climbing had been a sport she always wanted to excel in, but Ashley rarely dedicated any time for outdoor sports. “How fast can your men get down there?”

Morroe scratched the base of his neck. “Ten minutes, at best. Though I’d prefer you stay out of trouble, honey.” He shot a cautious glance at Rivera. “I hope this is all worth it.”

“This base is old and unfit to accommodate an entire platoon,” retorted Rivera, his eyes cold as the ice above them. “It will be torn down eventually.”

“Whatever.” Morroe turned his heels without even a nod.

It was time to equip her safety helmet and then follow the agent into the rudimentary elevator. Her climate suit was loose around her waist and neck but tight in other crucial areas, and the sweats were starting. The cranking elevator didn’t give any warning before jerking brutally for the descent. The fluorescent light flickered at times and she held tightly to the railing.

“You’d think these rocks wouldn’t freeze over so fast,” she said, her filtered voice drowned by the groan of the cage being lowered. The counterweight was visible which added to her lack of trust in the general state of the equipment. “What will happen after you find the prospectors?” She shouted this time, making sure Rivera was facing her.

“It’s not my call,” he answered, calm. His voice amplifier worked wonders in this place. “The UN can’t spare more on the Martian research budget, they _will_ shut this place down.”

“What do you mean? Are they looking at all the research sites?”

His visor wasn’t transparent like hers, it took her a moment not to cringe too much as she tried to guess what he was thinking.

“It’s not my place to say this but the cost of sending me here is already higher than what this base yields in productivity.”

So the Feris Base was too high maintenance and had no economical value. That could be a motive for someone who had been working there for years, fighting tooth and nail to defend their scientific project. The base was only kept alive by a couple dozen of ISF troops. The more she thought about that angle, the more she wanted to believe that Adrian Moore, Remi Karampelos and Jorge Mallen were somehow, in their right minds, protecting something important. And if so, why would they be labeled as terrorists?

The last and deepest level of the base was a few corridors and empty rooms with more machinery. The noise of the anti-frosting engines was more faint now and there was barely anything to find besides icy metallic grates and tubing on the walls. Ashley began to shiver even in her temperature regulating suit

Using her flashlight to sweep the area she kept an eye behind her back as Rivera lead them towards a secured door. It unlocked as he moved his left hand over the security panel meaning that he had a bypass, or a lock slicer integrated somewhere in his equipment. What lay behind that door was nothing but darkness.

“Where are we in the map?” she anxiously said, risking a look over the edge.

“This is the far end of Feris base,” Rivera said. “Secure your life line to this handle, then climb the ladder ten meters down.”

“What ladder?”

Her beam of light swept across the opposing wall and she saw the first rough carving of a step into the black rocks.

Rivera leaned forward himself to look down.

“I’d suggest jumping to go faster but I doubt your bones would like that.”

Even at sixty-two percent of full gravity she didn’t enjoy the prospect of falling. Rappelling even looked dangerous at this point, not knowing where she’d land.

“The missing explorers are down there, you’re certain?” she inquired.

“Not directly there, we’re still a good hour away from their location.”

“Ah,” she scoffed. After using metrics he was talking in time scale. “Pardon me while I remain skeptical about your plan.”

She had her line fixed to the handle with the self-opening hook and lowered herself to sit on the edge of the module. If she pushed back and propelled herself forward, she could grab the first handle of the ladder and not just crash and bounce against the wall.

“We’ll lose contact with ISF as soon as we descend beneath that plateau. I would be pretty irritated too if someone dragged me in the dark like this.”

Shooting him an exasperated glance, Ashley sucked air in from between her teeth and let go of her grip on the handle to fall off the module. First, she felt herself float for the slightest of seconds then her hands grabbed the hard pipe that served as a handle bar. Her knees and chest smashed against other pipes, pushing out all the air from her lungs. The sting of pain in her knees made her teeth grit as she pulled up on her wrists and elbows, fiercely trying not to let go. _This is nothing_. She leveled her feet over the bars and tried to catch her breath.

“Deep breaths, Doctor Huong.”

“Fine,” she replied, “I was going to pant like a dog, but as you wish.”

He let out a puzzled _ah_ and lowered himself towards the ladder, requiring less effort. He moved both their safety lines along their descent until they were both standing in the dark Martian cave. A mere flashlight was nowhere near sufficient to see down there. Ashley only saw a few yards around herself and the ground was covered in ice. It shined like glitter on the mineral surface.

“Footsteps,” noted Rivera, shining his own beam towards a path.

“Isn’t there any way to monitor who comes and goes down here?” she exclaimed rhetorically.

“This is recent...” The agent went after the trail and let out a muffled gasp. His all-black getup made it difficult to see what was happening but Ashley felt more than saw that he’d slipped on the ice. “Dammit.”

“Woopsie!” She giggled and patted his arm, using him to steady herself now aware that she could trip and fall, too.

“There’s going to be a stairwell in a few paces, then we’ll reach the dig site.”

“Are they using any comms?”

This time she was genuinely curious and thought to maybe tap into the prospectors’ conversations. If they were equipped to scan nearby intruders or even non-human assaillants, they had an upper hand. Rivera still hadn’t given her an answer when her light made a railing shine in the darkness.

“Not the kind of links you could tap into,” he finally told her. “These are people who know what they’re doing.”

“Unlike us?” she smirked ironically behind her visor.

“That’s right,” replied Rivera as they cautiously went down the metal steps. The temporary modules were in view now, faint lights framed the hatch doors. “Watch for the gap.”

She had to grip the railing with both hands, dropping her flashlight which bounced on the floor and twirled its beam around as it fell into a crevasse. They didn’t hear it hit the ground. Ashley made it safely to the bottom of the stairs but had to rely on Rivera for orientation. She cursed in her mind. Swear words seeped through her teeth. Why did you have to drop your fucking flashlight in a fucking cave? The people who worked there had better have a good reason to live in this dark, cold pit of rocks and ice, because she was starting to blame them for losing her flashlight.

The module was operational and unsecured. Even though the energy supply was still functioning, anyone who still lived there would have been found by the first search party. Perhaps they’d returned? Ashley was glad to be able to see again, squinting at the bright lab lights.

“Who’s there?” called a male voice from around a corner. It was a small configuration, they couldn’t be hiding very far. “Remi?”

Rivera’s right hand went for his side-arm before he answered.

“This is Special Agent, SCI. Come out with your hands where I can see them.”

For a moment nothing happened in the main corridor until deafening shots were fired and Ashley instinctively crouched. Where to take cover? She could only throw herself head first into the first open room and laid low as Rivera riposted with a couple of rounds from his own firearm. Her helmet was in the way of her ears and she couldn’t mute the sound that resonated in her head. They were in a climate-controlled module now, she could take it off...

Rivera backed up into her hideout and barely acknowledged her position, holding his gun at arm’s length while he pulled a small silver canister from his belt. He tossed it in the air and it deployed a fan before flying straight ahead.

I should have trained more in combat situations, she told herself. I have no idea what to do. Calling on her instinct was useless and she wasn’t feeling courageous enough to do anything. It was all on Rivera as he was better equipped to deal with this problem.

There was a bang and he moved out to the corridor. Ashley slowly got up and risked a look around the door frame when she heard a whine, as if the person was in some sort of daze or discomfort, or maybe both. She didn’t want to wait any longer but common sense asked her to stay put. There were still two people unaccounted for.

A hiss drew her attention to the back of the room and she met the gaze of a pale-face behind a helmet very similar to hers. She looked thin, almost emaciated. Was it an adrenaline-fueled hallucination? But the woman she was staring at was not her because she didn’t have a gun in her hands.

“Remi Karampelos?” she called out, raising her hands up.

“Who are you?” retorted the short-haired, brunette woman with gray eyes. “What do you want?”

“I’m Ashley Huong, psychology consultant for SCI.”

“Feds. That means you’re packing. Turn around.”

Reluctant, Ashley did as she was told and slowly presented her back while forcing her lungs to remain calm. She was far from relaxed. What was Rivera doing back there? Karampelos patted her down, frisking her arms and thighs to check for concealed weapons before unsealing her helmet. She took it off and pulled a battery pack from it’s back casing. Was she hoping to disable the communicator? Ashley had no idea how they were wired.

“Who else is with you?”

Other than her conscious intent to hide the truth from Karampelos, Ashley couldn’t keep her eyes from the muzzle of the rather large handgun pointed at her face.

“I’m--”

“Not alone,” finished a male voice behind her.

Looking over her shoulder, she almost instantly regretted lowering her guard. A bony arm wrapped around her neck to pull her backwards, and the cold metal barrel was pressed against her temple. Ashley tried to get away from the grip but Karampelos was surprisingly strong.

“She’s not a federal agent,” Rivera continued with unsettling calm. “She’s a contractor, like you.”

“A snitch,” corrected the woman. It was difficult to tell her level of danger through the suit and helmet. “Bucket off,” she directed with the tip of her weapon towards Rivera. “And toss it over with your guns.”

“I would have to restrain you first,” he replied. “Let Doctor Huong go, then we’ll talk like civilized people.”

She chuckled and Ashley could finally hear a nervous hickup in her voice.

“Then where is my partner?” she asked.

Without ever lowering his gun, his head made a slight motion towards the end of the corridor. “Recuperating from the firefight. I assumed you had a medbay here.”

“We won’t need one if we all die,” Ashley risked commenting and was reprimanded with a jerk on her throat.

“One hell of a shrink you are, Doc. There is a medbay. It’s just... occupied right now.”

Her left hand, the one holding the weapon, was starting to weaken. Even if she was strong, it took some effort to keep such a pistol level for an extended period of time.

“I’m not a shrink,” Ashley said. “I’m a consultant.”

“Same diff-- Ugh!”

The elbow she’d slammed into Karampelos’s ribcage got her to topple over and drop her gun. Ashley slipped out of the headlock, grabbed the right-hand wrist and twisted it in a spinning motion to press the woman’s arm against her back. Her heart was beating so fast, she could see black spots forming at the edges of her sight. Rivera kicked the gun away, using the opportunity to take the upper hand.

“Sorry for this introduction, Miss Karampelos. I’m Special Agent Rivera. You were reported missing during a crime investigation in Feris Base Alpha.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” she answered, wheezing. “Let me go.”

Ashley kept pressing on the locked wrist, hoping she wasn’t inflicting too much pain to the woman but she couldn’t let her think she was weak. Rivera gave her a small nod.

“It’s only fair that you help us understand what’s going on,” she told the prospector, releasing her. “Why can’t we access the medbay?”

Her bright eyes sized her up defiantly before she removed her helmet in a slow, deliberate gesture.

“If I’m not being arrested I’d like to know who I’m dealing with.”

Mineral prospectors were naturally defensive against competition and it drove them to great lengths to protect their interests. Ashley wasn’t ready to give Karampelos the benefit of the doubt yet. Rivera removed his opaque black helmet, having to holster his weapon to do so, and placed it upon the nearest shelving.

“Can I see some ID?” demanded Karampelos. She was given a black-framed card that she studied closely, her icy stare moving back and forth from his face. “Special Agent Jason Rivera, in service of SCI since 2238. Do you have any training in pandemic exobacteriological diseases? No? I thought not.”

Karampelos handed the ID back to him with contempt and extracted herself from their company to sit at a computer desk.

“What happened?” insisted Ashley. The question hung in the air as Rivera stood silently beside her, his attention drawn to the floor where Ashley’s helmet had been dropped. “It isn’t airborne, that bacterial disease... Is it?”

“It’s contained,” replied the prospector. “For now. That’s why I don’t want you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I need to know everything, the time and place of the first exposure, who was in contact with it and what’s the extent of the damage...”

She interrupted herself and turned to check on Rivera. Was he going to play mute all day? The Agent blinked and sucked in air through his teeth.

“I’m not an idiot,” replied Karampelos. “Jorge and I compiled all the details in our journal. But for now, we’re alive and we can’t afford to let the authorities shut down our operation yet.”

“So, Adrian Moore...”

“Gone.” She got up and gestured for the screen to display video footage. They looked at a medical room where they stored a body on a silver table. The man lied there motionless and the sheet of fabric placed over him was staining with dark, red patches where his orifices were. “His suit had been breached while he stood in the dig. He broke skin and we’ve all been outside without helmets for various periods of time. Ade didn’t suffer for very long. The hemorrage started after his brain activity flatlined.”

Karampelos sounded cold, emotionally detached and unnerved by the image. She must have been in no good terms with Moore in order not to express any kind of feeling towards his death. Perhaps they were just business partners. Something else seemed to trump the priorities for them.

“And what’s so important about your operation?” Ashley continued asking, apparently stuck as the interrogator role.

“Prospector stuff. Archeological discoveries, possible break in conventional science. That sort of thing. You should have sent the Nobel Prize commity, not SCI.”

“Formal conventions protects your ownership rights in case of such discoveries.”

“Not on government grounds, dear.”

There were few things Ashley got angry about, and there was always an explanation to people’s bad behavior. But she should stand a condescending attitude. “Are you sure you know what you’re dealing with?”

The skinny nostrils on Karampelos’s face flared before she answered.

“It’s a bacteria. It was dormant and something woke it up when terraforming put its ecosystem to on the fritz. We cut ourselves off from the base to prevent it from spreading, Jorge and I agreed not to ask for a medevac in case we got sick.”

Ashley would have given her top scores for that speech if she didn’t need to check the facts before nodding.

“Well, your plan needs to be set aside for now...” Because she had no plan but to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. And Karampelos was in the way. “Take us to your morgue.” She had to stand very still while both Karampelos and Rivera shot puzzled glances at her. “I certainly wouldn’t go there to get any sort of medical attention.”

“Fine,” Karampelos said with a dismissive wave. “Use the hazmat suits, though. You don’t want to get any of the killer bug on your own clothes.”

“And what will you be doing?” Rivera intervened finally.

“Assisting Jorge. Where is he?”

“Will you turn on us?” he earnestly asked back, his shoulders broadened as he made his way to the door.

Karampelos sneered angrily at him but kept her arms to her sides. “No. But I’d appreciate if you didn’t get in my way.”

“Don’t obstruct our case and we have a deal.” He appeared to lose patience when peering over to see what she was doing with the computer. He waited a moment and hissed. “You found fossils, didn’t you?”

Ashley was no stranger to such discoveries. Every Martian settlement required digging, and some sedimentary layers of minerals had traces of bacteria in them. Fossilized imprints of primordial life. Although they were a myth, it was speculated that pluricellular organisms may have existed around the same period and it was only a matter of time before someone unearthed them.

The prospector had probably never made such a break in her career and her protective attitude was understandable. Was it worth risking their lives? Ashley didn’t want to find out. Karampelos sighed heavily.

“I found DNA. Animal DNA. They may have come from meteor fragments from the time when asteroids would hit Earth on a daily basis. Perhaps in prehistoric times.”

“Why not contact an exobiologist about it?” suggested Rivera.

“Because Adrian was getting really sick and he disregarded safety protocol. Our whole mission would be canned if word got out, and I’d have to go back to mining.”

And her life choices would have to take a darker turn, Ashley concluded in her head. She didn’t know much about working in a mine for an ever-expanding market of resource exploitation but she held no high hopes in the fate of women in that industry. She couldn’t not pity Karampelos, and it was in her nature to want good things to happen for her. Rivera exited into the corridor and she followed him. Ashley closed the walk as they all entered a storage room at the opposite of the lab. Jorge Mallen was sitting against a bulkhead, his head supported by his hands and he barely registered their presence.

“Jorge?” Karampelos knelt beside him, touching his wrists to look at his face. “We’re okay. Calm down.”

“What did you tell them?” He was in panic. Ashley pinched her mouth so as not to sigh, tired of the drama. Mallen didn’t pay attention to her. “You can’t let them know!”

“It’s alright, Jorge. We can work this through but you gotta put your head in the game.”

Karampelos helped him up, an overweight forty year-old male with unkempt facial hair and a slight astigmatism. Looking at Ashley, Rivera left the room for a sidebar. She still hadn’t made up her mind about what to think of those two but they sure had a lot to worry about with a corpse in their medbay. Rivera didn’t look more confident, his left eyebrow seemed to be stuck in low position.

“She isn’t lying,” was what Ashley could tell so far. “There just aren’t enough guarantees for her to feel safe about her work, and her life.”

He did what most of her mission associates would do whenever they were stressed: worry for her. Ashley tore her eyes away from his insisting glare and folded her arms over her reinforced suit to keep her head focused on the job. Having such condescending feedback was a drawback for her. She was fully prepared to pull her own weight in these situations.

“You did good,” he finally replied. “But we can’t let these two escape if there’s a pandemic awaiting to break out.”

She heard them talking in the storage room, and that was confirmation enough that they were still both where she could find them.

“What do you suggest?”

“Besides tranq’ing them? Nothing that wouldn’t revoke my active status.” He paused, his cheeks twitching to repress a smirk. “I need to find evidence that they were involved in Adrian Moore’s death. But if you can find any traces of a bacterial leak out from the medbay, we could enforce a lockdown - though that would trap us here, too.”

“Whatever gets this case solved,” Ashley approved. “We’re here, aren’t we? Might as well see it through.”

Hands on his hips he took a thoughtful moment and got into his leg pouch. It was a medkit of some sort, when he opened it there were a couple of tubes.

“These are wide-spectrum vaccines and antibiotics in case of a bacterial attack. If you take one today, it should come into effect in the next twelve hours.”

She dubitavely arched a brow before taking a vaccine vial between her fingers.

“Do they work against fossilized Martian bugs?”

“We don’t know for sure that they’re extra-terrestrial.”

Or maybe it didn’t matter where the bacteria came from. Earth’s own collection of strange viruses and bacteria was still riddled with incurable pathologies.

“Wouldn’t hurt to get my vaccines updated.” She accepted the injector gun that Rivera handed to her and placed the vial in its cartridge. The shot in her neck felt like a pinch followed with a punch as the serum was injected into her tissues. “What about you?”

“I do this between deployments, it’d be wasteful to get another shot now.” Stowing the vials and injector gun back in his pouch he turned his ears towards the storage room. Mallen and Karampelos were still talking to one another, and their tone was still hushed. “We have to earn their trust if we want to survive. First we secure the medbay and get a biohaz team in the loop. Then we find out what made these two want to bury themselves in this pit.”

“And if it’s worth burying us _with_ them.”


	5. Mars - 05

Coming back to the two prospectors they faced them, waiting for explanations. Mallen got up with a raspy groan and looked at Ashley before addressing Rivera.

“Fuck you for the flashbang,” he spat. “I really didn’t need that.”

Folding his arms together the federal agent gave the two women a glance before taking a few casual steps forward.

“Instead of getting into the argument about whether Han Solo shot first, let’s clear the air on one thing: I’m not here to steal anything from you, even if it’s an artifact that could reveal the meaning of life, the universe and everything. I’m just here to make sure your operation has nothing to do with any terrorist activities.”

“Hah,” Mallen cackled, he was amused. “Well, we already know the answer to the former question is 42. And for the latter, it’s no. We’ve gone dark to avoid any private security grunts to leak information to our competitors.”

“And ISF aren’t worthy of your trust?”

Karampelos took an impatiant posture with her fists propped on her hips.

“They’re worth as much trust as _you_ give them. Lone wolf.”

“That’s really not helping your case, Karampelos.”

“Pffh,” she rolled her eyes to the dark ceiling. “Remi, please. And really, I don’t give a shit what you think I am. I’m doing what’s right for this planet, if that means I’m a terrorist then you can arrest me.”

Pursing her mouth, Ashley hoped they wouldn’t come to that. There was progress, they were finally going somewhere and she wasn’t entirely sure what to say in order not to create more tension. After all, her input would always be tinted with parapsychological filters. It had the tendency to make everyone grumpy.

“I’m happy we could get along,” she candidly stated, which was met with incredulous eyes. Ashley did not mean to get everyone’s approbation just for expressing her opinion but the idea of working together had to be spoken, to set an objective.

“So you’re the doctor,” said Jorge. “Maybe you can tell everyone that we’re not fucking insane and they can leave us alone?”

“Well, it doesn’t usually work that way. You have a body and there ought to be someone looking for them, am I wrong?” She received no answer, simply a sideways look from Remi. “Or, just us trying to figure out what really happened. If you won’t allow more people to come and help you, like, say a hazmat team, I doubt I could cross out _paranoid_ from your profiles.”

He sighed, and Remi made a waving gesture of dismissal before leading them out to another room. It was the dormitory. There were four bunk beds and the sheets were unmade, there was a distinct smell of mold and dirty bathroom. The occupants hadn’t had time to do the chores or were running out of recyclable water, which was surprising for a module of this quality. Ashley took notice of the messy desks and clothes spread around the bunks. They weren’t ready to pack up and leave.

“I’m not letting you harrass us with questions until the next seismic spike,” said Remi, opening a closet. She grabbed a couple of linens. “What we’re tracking is tiny friction events between the deep rock formations. They’re releasing gas and it seems to activate an unknown source of energy.” The prospector dumped the blankets and sheets into Rivera’s arms and opened a second closet for pillows. “The tremors happen every forty hours. Don’t hold your breath.”

“Not until the tremors occur, though.” Jorge snorted sarcastically. “The gases also trigger a release of bacteria from the fossils.”

“So, you’re studying the energy source,” Rivera summerized, taking the pillows under his left arm so as not to be smothered by Remi. “How potent is it?”

She went to the opposing wall and pulled a handle which extended a thin separation wall out of the bulkhead to create a second bedroom.

“It’s powerful enough to wake up dead DNA.”

  
  


##

The lights had been switched off for power conservation, but Ashley imagined that darkness would keep quiet whatever killed Adrian Moore. She had to keep her mind in check and only absorb the facts, there was a dead man who had suffered an unknown disease before succumbing to it, and then his dead organs were liquified. She’d never heard of anything like it before.

Wearing the air-tight hazmat suit provided by the medbay’s supply storage, she punched in the authorization code given by Remi and the lights went on. The doors parted with a soft hiss, almost too smoothly when compared to the atrocity that she was about to look at. Expecting a body bag, she froze in her stride when she saw none on the table but a flat, red cover. The floor was a shiny, dark shade of red that stuck to her boot when she lifted it. A cry of disgust and fear escape from her mouth.

“Crap,” said Remi’s voice in her transmitter. “Can you see anything under the blanket? Any trace of bones?”

Breathing more rapidly, Ashley gulped down and blinked hard. “You’re not gonna trap me in here, are you?”

“What good what that do? Besides, your boyfriend has his eyes locked on me like missile launchers.”

She nervously smiled and let out an awkward “hah” before proceeding deeper into the chamber. It was cold, and the sound of her breathing in the plastic suit made her head spin. Walking in a mush of coagulated blood didn’t make her feel any more dandy.

“I don’t see anything solid on the table. What’s so important about that anyway?”

“Just look, Doc. I have my reasons.”

“Ugh,” Ashley couldn’t hold her disgust back when lifting up the fabric. Long strands of gooey gel from liquified grease and bones stuck to the material. “There, happy?”

She was going to hurl soon and her scientific instinct made her look at the mess she was uncovering. Everything looked in order, all horrific details considered, and she found no trace of necrosis, gangrene, or alien bodies growing in there. Except...

“Wait,” she whispered to herself, trying to stop her from walking away just yet. “Did Moore wear some kind of electronic implant?”

It was the size of a pebble, or a ping-pong ball. It was rather flat but metallic when she looked closer.

“He had diabetes,” said Jorge. “That’s a cheap insulin dispenser.”

“Should I pick it up?”

“No,” said another male voice, which she assumed was Rivera’s. “Come out of there, we can’t do much right now.”

Hurried, she stepped with atrociously comical footstep noises out of the chamber and into the decontamination where she had to wait a good five minues under an anti-bacterial shower before she was allowed to get out of the hazmat suit. Sweating, she felt her hair got in the way of the zipper and had to pull off a few strands to free herself from the plastic body bag. As soon as she was out, she rushed towards the nearest waste basket and a flow of nasty stomach contents spewed from her lips. She hadn’t eaten much that day and the cramps demanded that she expell more, as if what she’d just seen had somehow gotten into her digestive system. Clenching her teary eyes shut, Ashley tried to remind herself why she was there, who she was stuck with and how she had to leave that place. Sitting against the cold, high-density plastic wall, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties, she looked at the discarded yellow hazmat suit and the transparent doors leading to the airlock and the blood chamber. She was going to call it that. There was nothing else to find there anyway. The others couldn’t reach her without her helmet on, which contained the transmitter.

Pulling herself up, she gathered the now clean suit to hastily stow it in its closet before heading out, her own clothes and boots balled up in her arms. To hell with what the others would think, she couldn’t get dressed before a long, warm shower. Rivera was waiting for her in the corridor and he enveloped her with a fleece blanket. It smelled new, but dusty.

“I really need to clean up,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t ask her anything because her breath was appalling.

But the shower system was even more minimal than that of her room on the Feris Base. Even the second generation of space ships had better bathrooms. It was a steam cleaning cabin with a small jet for light rinsing, not much else. Ashley understood that water needed to be conserved but recycling units had been designed for any extensive use for lengthy periods of time. Once she had forgotten the smell of her puke and the plastic of the hazmat suit she got out of the shower cabin and startled, remembering that she was in a communal room but she was alone there. Spending a good amount of toothpaste to pass the taste of her gastric fluids, she heard someone come in. Looking through the mirror, she saw Rivera averting his eyes from her even though she was wearing her slacks and a clean shirt. The guy was probably around her age and what did it mean if the sight of her made him look away? Ashley didn’t linger on the thought, knowing all too well where that lead her. She spat the pasty remains of her brushing and rinsed her toothbrush before placing it back in her personal pouch.

“You didn’t have to do that,” said Rivera, sitting on the bottom bunk. He removed his combat suit and was now in a black sleeveless shirt and boxers. Was it sleep time already?

“I’ve seen corpses before,” she replied, making a fist with her right hand because it was still trembling. “Not gel people, though. What time is it?”

“3 A. M.”

“Holy crap.” She sat on the chair near her, and the desk beside it was ornated of a simple water jug and it was empty. “This is worse than off-planet missions.”

Rivera neatly folded his equipment, his toned muscles flexing visibly as he placed it to the foot of his bed. Ashley silently scoffed, knowing all too well that she would have to watch her steps and not be her usual untidy self around this one.

“You don’t trust them either,” she said, breaking the silence. “I was safer in there than alone among those two. Admit it.”

“Good night,” he coldly replied, lying ontop of the blanket.

Her lips tingled in anger because she wanted to shout and scream at him. After spending an hour trying to get rid of the smell of blood and puke out of her face, he was fast asleep like a machine and unwilling to discuss the next steps ahead. Finding the light switch, Ashley used the dimmer to have at least ten percent luminscence in case someone approached them in their sleep. She climbed to the top bunk and tried to breathe calmly, like a normal person, and to find sleep even though she felt completely alone in this cold, terrifying, dark hole.

  
  


##

When she woke up the thoughts of loneliness, mistrust and death had grown roots in her head, pounding in her brain and rendered her eyelids swollen from unshed tears. It was a little lighter as if Rivera had wanted to get up without waking her but the sound of the shower cabin was as silent as a diesel engine. Checking her wrist watch, she read seven-thirty. Perhaps she could dig up an old coffee machine somewhere, or extort information from either Remi or Jorge to get to their breakfast cache.

Getting up, she checked that her face didn’t look too disgusting before stepping out with her barefeet towards the other rooms. The lights were all dimmed, as if total darkness wasn’t possible and unnecessary in these depths, and she easily found her way across the module. Every room was work-oriented, and the storage room had nothing but equipment casings and boxes that didn’t have anything edible. On the other hand, she found an unmarked closet and opened it to find a transparent case of metallic tubes. They looked nothing like the drone casings she’d ever heard of, or the distress beacons she was used to in space missions. Also, they didn’t have any medical markings. These were samples, probably pressurized and air-tight to conserve their natural properties.

Suddenly blinded, Ashley startled and almost dropped the box. She made it bounce against a shelving in the closet and put it there to turn around.

“Well, well,” said Remi, holding a flashlight beam in her face. “Didn’t take you so long.”

“For what?” she replied, shielding her eyes with her hands. Remi wore nothing but her underwear, accentuating her skinny frame and lack of breasts. She could really use a sandwich. Ashley stepped aside to demonstrate that the package was unsealed and intact. “Is this what you were researching?”

“This? Nah. That’s just CO2 ampules for cooking. But I knew you’d been snooping around here sooner or later.” She activated the lights and stopped blinding Ashley.

“I was looking for food,” she said in her defense. “Apparently, you could use some, too.”

“Excuse me?”

“Uh, I mean... We could call for some supplies, they have plenty up there at the base. And why would you need gas ampules anyway? Creme brulee?”

“That’s not even remotely what those are needed for. Maybe we could use some grub, yes, but we make do.” She went up to a cooling closet and extracted a packet of protein bars. “These will last a month, defrosted. They contain everything the body needs, won’t boost morale for shit but what can you do? This place is literally a shit hole.”

“Please don’t say stuff like that,” Ashley protested, still reminded of what had become of Adrian Moore.

“Right,” she revised herself, adjusting a strap on her loose bra. “Maybe I owe you some thanks for going into the medbay and not fucking everything up. You still need to clean that vomit, by the way.”

Still frail from the experience and her recent existencial pondering, Ashley didn’t respond.

“So yeah,” Remi sighed and closed the fridge. “Protein bars for everyone. We can live like this forever.”

Her mind went into a race of speculative scenarios in which she would end up spending way more time there than she originally thought. Jorge and Remi, if they weren’t involved, would attempt to form some kind of family ties with Rivera and herself or they would create tensions and rivalries, arguments would spur every other hour and boredom would push them to unhealthy extremes never thought of. Cabin fever was one of the effects she’d observed, studied and treated for all of her career. Everything from depression to hysteria could happen and without a rescue party or exit of some kind, the damage would be irreversible.

“I can’t stay here,” she murmured.

“What, hun?”

Remi folded her arms together and waited for an answer, some clarifications. To what? The woman had spent weeks or months, probably, in this module. Her reality was her new norm and she had forgotten what the sane, outside world was supposed to be.

“You can remain with your project to find new energy, but I’ve done my work here and there’s nothing I can do about the bacteria. Sorry, Remi. But my place is out there, with people who could use my help better.”

“Hey, listen to me, lady. You came here uninvited. You came here, tried to steal my findings and accused me of murder. Now you’re saying that you don’t want this? You know what, fuck you. You do want this. When you signed up to be a psychologist you dreamed to be in a situation where you could shine and be a given a prize for surviving the ordeal. Now, you’re in denial because you’re no longer in control. Yeah, yeah, you can’t have your gourmet food and your precious coffee. Here’s some news for you, sweet cheaks: this is reality. This is where people reveal their true nature.”

She grabbed a smaller pack of frozen protein bars and tossed them to Ashley. The box hurt her and she fought not to let it show. Remi sneered and continued.

“Make yourself at home, tend to it like you would in your own luxury apartment. Having new blood in here could really brighten up the place, so to speak.”

There were six rooms in the module, and the medbay was an extension of the south aisle that could be entirely sealed off. When Ashley was done cleaning the airlock, and the mess she’d made in the waste basket, she undertook to dusting the rest of the place. Coughing, sneezing, she used up more wipes than she had in her entire life, discovering mold and rust in places no one would usually look. When Rivera asked her why she was cleaning, she used the pretext that clues could be found that way without raising too much suspicion. And if doing chores could help gain the trust of the prospectors, it was an easy task for her.

Once all six rooms were swept and dusted, she lied in her bunk, letting her tears flow freely now to let the idea sink in: it was as much her home as it was Remi’s and Jorge’s, and lately Adrian’s. She feared that she might have to clean up what remained of him. The door hissed opened and she startled awake, reminded of her aching knees and back.

“Found anything?” asked Rivera.

Yawning, she squeezed herself in her dull blanket and shook her head.

“Did you talk to them?” she asked back.

He gaver her no answer, all she heard was rustling of fabric and clicking of equipment. It sounded like he was getting ready to head out.

“Can you come down, please?”

She’d protested if she was actually going to sleep her day away, as if that was her home for the rest of her life. But it wasn’t. She was on the job, and his cold distance reminded her that she could not get comfortable. Despite her shortcomings, her failure to provide any clues or advance in their investigation, they were still a team. Rivera, all suited up and geared for combat, holstered a pistol to the back of his waist. She stood beside him to look at his helmet and her climate suit neatly folded on his bunk.

“Are we leaving?”

“Ashley,” he softly called. “We were never staying.” Out of nowhere, he touched her shoulder and made her face him. He was taller and exhuded more confidence than she’d ever felt on her own. It must have been the uniform, she thought. “I need you here and awake, do you understand? They got into your head. I don’t care why or how, but now we know there’s nothing to do about them.”

His eyes broke contact with hers when she nodded and he let her go. At the sink he filled up a glass of water that she accepted. It was his training that taught him to give morale to his team, she guessed. As a federal agent he didn’t really care if she made it back with him, it would only hurt his mission statistics if his consultant hadn’t been up to the task. The SCI was responsible for the choice of contracted personnel, not him.

And she wanted him to make it out of there, to return to his family and friends. She couldn’t let her failures affect someone else.

“Are we calling for back-up?” she suggested while getting dressed.

He was once again diverting his gaze and he nodded, grim when he furrowed his brow.

“If I had my way I’d shoot both of them down but life isn’t that easy.” He had his gauntlet-mounted communicator activated but he finished folding the blanket from her cot while she was getting ready. “I’m giving us an hour before things could get hairy, then you might need to take cover behind this.”

Tapping a knuckle on the plexiglas shower cabin, he motioned towards the back of the room.

“ISF might not know how flimsi these are, their frag grenades would pulverize it all, but not the shower cabin.”

“What about you? There’s only room for one...”

“My suit is equipment for a close range blast.”

Her gut twisted in apprehension of combat. Remi and Jorge didn’t deserve to die for what they were doing. She didn’t want anyone to die.

“Maybe if you let me talk to them, we wouldn’t need to come this... They could just leave with us.”

“There is no _us_ to them.” Rivera turned a look at her that made the blood freeze in her veins. “You did your part and there’s no good outcome from that. If we stay any longer on this path I might have to leave you here.”

Yes, she thought. They hadn’t spend three days in the module while her usual consultations lasted weeks, if not months in order to take her patients towards remission. Her state of mind needed to adjust to this unknown environment, to understand the extent of the damage she had to repair.

“I can do this,” she assured him. “Call off the reinforcements. I need just a little more time, they can be turned around.”

He narrowed his brown eyes and clenched his jaw. Had he so little faith in her that it made him angry?

“Then explain to me what you’re doing, Ashley. Tell me that you’re not becoming one of _them_.”

She felt her own eyes welling up as she took a step backwards. Why? He wasn’t threatening her, on the contrary, he was reaching out. Ashley had just gotten used to the idea that she was on her own.

“They’ve hit rock bottom, literally,” she began to say. “I had to emulate their feelings and get a better grasp of what they were going through in order to help them. I want everyone to come out of here alive...”

She stopped and realized she never grasped his first name. Was it John? Kayden? Jason? He supported himself against the foot of the bunk beds and folded his arms against his chestplate, taking a deep breath.

“So, you know what you’re doing?” he asked, seeking her gaze. “You’re not being delusional and actually becoming their slave?”

“No,” she chuckled and shook her head. “They’re not dangerous people.” Again, she drew a blank on his name. “Remi is actually quite intelligent but sad and cynical. She’s convinced there’s no way out for here. Jorge, a little less.”

“Well, I did bring you here,” he admitted, looking down at his boots, “and this is your job... I will support you for as long as we see results.”

Ashley smiled and started getting out of her suit. Rivera kept his eyes away but she could sense his annoyance.

“The moment I see that you’re losing control again, I’m pulling us out of here.”

 


	6. Mars - 06

Days passed, and they had been over fifty hours in without the prospectors finding anything in their lab. One evening came without a change in the air or even a chime. But it was time for the second meal of the day, what they would normally call dinner and they would have to share a room to heat up their food rations. Ashley got to the oven first and assembled plates, cups and filled up a jug of water with ice cubes in it. She dimmed the lighting to sixty percent and gathered cuttlery on the table in the middle of the room. Foraging for spices, she found ordinary table salt, and a small bottle of chili sauce that she victoriously placed between all the plates. Rivera saw this and took a step back, his face wordlessly expressing curious concern for what she was doing. With her own critical mind she knew she was behaving like a child, or an insane person. But if she escaped her positive delusion, a more destructive streak would take over.

When Jorge and Remi gathered around the microwave oven to heat up their unsavory protein bars, they found the table and first frowned. Then Jorge shrugged and sat down, pouring himself water in a plastic cup while Remi powered up the only appliance in the room.

“So this is your plan,” she said. “A dinner of spicy rations.”

“I make do,” Ashley replied and handed over Jorge’s plate. Her smile took less effort than she’d expected. “I don’t suppose you’d want to share my _luxury_ tastes but I setup a plate for you.”

Remi, looking more tired than upset, relaxed her brow and sat herself down next to Jorge. Everyone had a piece of warmed up protein mash with optional salt and chili. The result tasted almost good, but had to be washed down with plenty of fluids.

“Okay, what do you want?” said the leading prospector, crossing her arms on the table. Her gray eyes would have looked warmer in healthy orbits, but they were dark and deepset. “I’m not splitting any shares of the profits...”

“I just want us all to get out of this mess,” said Ashley. “Rivera and I could leave here any time, and not say anything about your research. You would likely die here without some help, and someone else could take over your project. You’ve already lost enough, and you’ve been waiting for a chance to come out of here with your head high.”

“We can wait some more,” said Jorge. “When ISF and those HiSec rats leave camp, we’ll tell everyone.”

“Everyone?” repeated Rivera. “What you have here could start a new war. Are you sure you even want to unearth it?”

Remi glared suspiciously at him and Ashley parted her lips to say something that would defuse the situation. She couldn’t let tension get in the way.

“We want money,” Jorge said, his tone going non-challant. “After all, that’s what we want. We don’t care about the glory anymore, we just want to be alive and rich.”

“Stop being an asshole, Jorge.” Remi looked back at Rivera and tapped her nails on the table. “If we don’t claim the discovery someone else will. People with power, and money. They’d be protected with lobbies and sponsors. We have nothing.”

“That’s why you have to work with us,” he reassuringly said. “You may hate the feds, but we can give you whatever you need as partners.”

“But the first thing you have to do is leave here, take every piece of report and evidence with you and contact a lawyer.” Ashley leaned forward, aware that it made her slouch more than she’d planned but she was tired of the forced distance. “At first, I hated the UN, too. Having to work for the man, being told what to do... But without this job I’d be a nobody. Stuck in a dead-end desk job in a pharmaceutical firm.”

Feeling uncomfortable for revealing too much of her personal life, Ashley recovered her confidence by convincing herself that it was for the good of the mission. Without adding anything Remi got up and left rapidly.

“What’s the matter, Rem?” Jorge asked her before leaving as well.

It was only Ashley with Rivera now and she didn’t want to run after them. Rivera stayed too and he looked at her in a non-judging way, focusing on her hands. She meshed them together next to her plate and tried not to meet his gaze, avoiding any sort of moment to occur between them. She didn’t want to assess the growing tension. These were not realistic conditions to form a relationship. In the silence, she denied herself all speculative thought of finding out who he was outside of work. Remi returned, followed by Jorge, and she carried a small box. It was fresh out of the freezer and was labelled “ice cream”.

“I think this is what you were looking for, the other day.”

Unable to retain a grin, Ashley got up and inspected the contents: it was an assortment of different flavored cups of frozen desserts.

“Thank you,” she told her. “These look delicious.”

Remi smiled back and put down the different portions on the table for everyone to dig in.

“I was saving them for a special occasion, but this is as good as it gets.”

  
  


##

The lab was quiet even when full as their attentions were completely absorbed by the seismographic results compared with numbers of the last week. The tremor sensors were still recording activity and the spike was barely noticeable through physical, human senses. The secondary screen was measuring energy levels and there were only flat lines. The tell-tale sign of the unknown energy wave could only be measured in carbon and organic measurements done through probing.

“When can we know for sure that these are linked, based on these new numbers?” Ashley asked.

Remi, nervously tapping the tip of her fingers on her lips, suddenly smirked and pointed at a change in the organic mass spectrometrics.

“There, that’s our proof.”

It was the sterile, anti-climatic aspect of scientific discoveries that Ashley found amusing. She smiled and even laughed when Remi took a picture of the screen. Everything was kept in history records anyway.

“You will have to secure these results as soon as possible,” said Rivera, arms crossed and showing none of the enthusiasm in the room. “The sooner we get the quarantine procedure under way, the sooner you can expose your findings to my bosses. You got two hours.”

He then disappeared into the corridor and the prospectors speechlessly looked at each other. Ashley rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

“He sure knows how to ruin a special moment.”

“What’s it to him?” Jorge asked her. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know,” she lowered her brow, protesting what he was assuming about her. “I think he may be lactose intolerant.”

She felt her stomach go into a knot. In her experience the law enforcement personnel were always itching for a fight. There was a fair chance that Rivera would turn on all of them and blow up the entire module in order to reserve right to his authorities to the potential weapon that’s been discovered. She couldn’t let that happen. the separation had been removed in the dormitory and Rivera was sitting on his bunk, folding laundry. Not his nor hers, but Jorge’s and Remi’s. They’d been so busy with their research that packing had fallen out the cracks of their minds. Ashley looked at him for a second, marveling at his overall fitness. Rivera looked like a very capable man but that wasn’t what she was afraid of.

“You think they will sell off the new technology to the highest bidder,” she said, hoping to cut short of his ruminations. “This new energy could bring chaos to the Independent Systems.”

“What I think is not important,” he replied, folding a pair of jeans and putting it in a travel bag. “I trust your professionnal opinion that they won’t slip up.”

His jaw was stiff and his eye contact merely lasted a second. Ashley walked into the room and pulled the desk chair closer. She gathered her wits to their full capacity, this session would be a tough one.

“I don’t know more than you do,” she assured, but let her words trail off again because she hadn’t mustered the courage to ask for his name in over a week. “If they turn out to be unstable at the very last moment, I need to make sure that I’m on your side. I didn’t sign any contract with them, you’re my ride out of this hole.”

Balling up socks together, he looked at her and his lips stretched to a discrete smile before he nodded.

“Alright.”

“If you’re having second thoughts I’d like to know them.”

“Sure, I’ll let you know.”

His sincerity was as authentic as a plastic bottle. Ashley leaned back in the chair and relaxed the muscles on her face, patiently staring straight at him. She spoke again.

“We have all night.”

Having finished with the underwear, Rivera looked at her directly now and he covered a hand over his fist. If she wasn’t paranoid that was a clear sign of an antagonizing attitude.

“It’s not them who worry me,” he said, his voice more quiet than the air conditionning. “But this energy they discovered is raw. The means to extract it are destructive. The applications would be even worse... That’s going to attract all the wrong people here.”

“Isn’t it why HiSec and ISF are here?”

His eyes went up to the ceiling before meeting her own. They didn’t linger before he busied himself sorting his bed.

“They are in charge of evacuating the base before it got decommissioned.”

“What about their unofficial objective? _Secure base to protect corporate interests in possible discovery site_?”

He smirked before commenting on that. “That’s the subtext mission for all armed forces on a payroll.”

“But not for you?” She studied his reaction, and tilted her head to catch his attention. He was clearly avoiding something in her questions. “Don’t you want this base to stay operational?”

“Does it have to be personal?”

His face lost its mask of cold professionalism for a moment and his glare was the one of a wounded fighter. Ashley raised an eyebrow and pretended like she hadn’t seen anything.

“When you’re the one in charge to call the big guns yeah, I guess I want to know how you feel about releasing Remi and Jorge.”

Fingers meshed between his knees, he took a breath and straightened his back.

“On record, I have no personal opinion about retrieving them, since you’ve made sure they weren’t dangerous for society.”

“Why the sarcasm, Rivera? My methods aren’t immune to criticism, I even welcome a second opinion if I can get it. You’ve proven yourself a good judge of character. Now I want to know why you’re dancing around the elephant in the room...”

“You mean, your inability to accept the consequences of your decisions by yourself?”

Her teeth gritted against each other and she wanted to leave and never talk to him again.

“That has nothing to do with the reasons why I’m talking to you...” she hissed, wishing she could fire missiles through her eyes. Nobody ever called her a coward before.

Rivera softened the area over his brow and parted his lips to speak, but she was already up and heading out the door. “Hey,” he called.

She froze as her wrist was caught in the firm grip of his right hand and he blocked her view when she turned around. _Don’t. Just stop doing this_. Her pulse wouldn’t slow down even when he’d taken a step back and showed his open palms. In the few days spent in close quarters with him, she’d gotten accustomed to his scent, and the proximity made her uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, you’re just doing your job. I get it.” Rivera put his hands on his hips and tiled his head down. “I do have some concerns - geologically, biologically, and _ethically_ speaking. But there’s nothing you and I could do about it without putting some people at risk... I’d really appreciate if you didn’t put that in your report.”

His voice was sickening like an old song that reminded bad memories. She gave him a quick nod and sighed until her lungs were empty, forcing her breath to find its normal pace.

“Fine, I won’t.” She dug into her pockets but found nothing she actually needed there. “Are we going to have any more problems because of those concerns of yours?”

Using a thumb to rub his forehead, Rivera smiled to push away an obvious grimace of irritation. “Not unless you’re coming to me with more questions.”

She could have let the provocation slide and leave the argument alone. Riveras _was_ going to be a problem and she lost confidence that, once they would be under way towards Feris Base Alpha, something would go sour. He would, without the shadow of a doubt, attempt to thwart her plan. Or maybe once they would all be safe and once she would let her guard down, he could manipulate his reports and have her license removed.

Ashley was no traitor and she always did her job. Her employers required her to assist Rivera and to make sure any unstable psychological profile be secured and processed through the proper channels. And that included everyone she knew, herself included.

“We’re a team, right?” she told him. “That means you should have my back and let me know when things get out of hand.”

Leaning against the door frame, he nodded reassuringly and listened to her. Ashley made an extra effort not to stare at his arms. Or his chest. She kept talking and measured her voice so as not to attract either Jorge or Remi towards her.

“How long does quarantine take?”

“No longer than three days.”

“What? That’s it?” she had last heard it to be reduced to a week.

“In this economy, what do you want...” Rivera checked his wrist watch. “Is there something bothering you, Ashley?”

It was all wrong. She was the one to call the end of the interview. Stumbling on her words, she had trouble calming herself.

“It’s-- I need to make sure that-- No, nevermind. Wait...” Her eyes were blurry and she had to run the back of her hand across her face. Rivera pulled her in and closed the door. Once she was sitting on his cot he knelt in front of her and she found relative balance in her voice. “That short a delay means that I’ll be placed in their cell. They’re going to process me as unfit to work. I have social anxiety and a little bit of a neurotic disorder. It’s going to show up on the neuroscan.”

“Nothing is going to show up,” he retorted as if he’d decided so. “This mission was too risky for you. I should’ve known...”

“Why, how?”

“You go all-in, and at your own expense. That’s probably how you ran that interrogation with Harris. I’m guessing you wrap up your assignments in a matter of weeks, too.” He looked at her crossed arms and she saw his eyes go from her breasts to her face without a back-take. “How many missions so far?”

Remembering her work curriculum, she visualized a tally and added a few numbers per destination...

“A hundred and fifty-three.”

The quantity didn’t appear to shake him. Rivera came to sit next to her and leaned forward.

“So, you’re a little crazy. That’s not original.”

She chuckled and felt like crying. Wiping the tears rolling down her face she forced herself not to let go of her self-control.

“It’s my fault, I didn’t think ahead when I told you to give me another try with them. I forgot we were in a fucking hole in the ground and there’s a deadly bacteria out there.”

A silent minute passed. Rivera ran a palm over his buzzed sandy hair and looked at her.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, but the SCI won’t charge anything against you for coming out with more problems than you brought coming in. Even if I did have a say in your decisions, you did your job.”

Or, in other words, she was a terrible consultant. He kept going.

“Working with others sucks, huh?” Nodding her head, she sniffled and he smiled when she could laugh again. Ashley wiped the moist of her hands on her trousers. Rivera checked the time again and she could read 22:32. “The hazmat team should be here in about an hour. Are we good?”

She pulled the scrunchy from her hair to make it into a tighter pony tail. Relief was a big word to express what she felt, but leaving this place would definitely improve her state of mind.

“Not looking forward to sitting in a cage for three days.”

He put his hand on her back and removed it immediately. “You won’t be alone.”

“Thanks,” she said and politely looked back at him. “I keep calling you Rivera...”

“That’s my name,” he acquiesced. “But you can call me Jason.”

Of course, she told herself. Just when the mission ended, she’d finally make a connection with someone she’d only begun to value and consider worthy of being her friend. He was challenging, professional, well-spoken and respectful. And like all spacers he seemed as lonely as she was. The type of man she’d sworn out of her range of relationships, if she even took the time for a private life. The realization placed a weight inside her head and she moved with numbed senses when preparing for the evacuation.

  
  



	7. Mars - 07

**Back to Feris Base Alpha**

  
  


The hazmat personnel wore field-tested and rugged types of suits with the biohazard logo on their backs, carrying cases that contained cleaning robots. Remi and Jorge had their own precious cargo contained in a small suitcase and they wore their climate suits with helmets properly sealed. Their communicators being disabled or ripped out, they couldn’t be heard when they got out of the module.

Ashley had hers fixed and she was lead towards the staircase by Rivera, who had slung his weapon in his back as he offered his aid. The crevasse was still there before the first step. Then came Remi and Jorge to climb up the icy cave and once at the top of the stairs, they looked back to give a silent farewell to what had been their home for months. And maybe they were saying another goodbye to Adrian Moore.

She looked ahead to see a work lamp standing next to a fixed ladder leading up the underbelly of Feris Base Alpha. Behind his black visor, Rivera observed their two prospectors and waited for them to catch up before closing the march.

For three more days, Ashley had to adjust to a life of little privacy with people she didn’t entirely trust, in a succession of medical rooms that hadn’t been used or cleaned in a long while. But she found an old desk space meant for the orderlies where she could sit and write her reports. Having access to the local networks reconnected her with the outside world, and she found new messages in her inbox. One was from Professor Ferrad, wishing her good luck on her next endeavors and reiterating his invitation to join him on a new career path. The other message came from her sister, letting her know about a family dinner due in a month. She chewed the inside of her cheek and closed the messenger.

Teresa was two years younger, was married with two kids while her husband worked for the family company as a marketing advisor. Ashley had gone to medical school with her sister but their paths split and they barely ever talked. Teresa had agreed to work part-time as a doctor of medicine to raise the children and basically endorse the stay-at-home role to let her man do most of the work. His paychecks were more than sufficient anyway, thanks to her parents who were the CEOs.

Staring at a blank page, Ashley anxiously tapped her keyboard. A few breaths and she was listing the notable events that occurred since she arrived at Feris Base. She gave credit to Lieutenant Morroe for her consult on the Harris case. She made no conjecture about the prospectors’ findings in the dig site. And when she mentioned the cause of death of Adrian Moore, the word _unknown_ ended her narration. Her psychological interpretation had to be stated at the end of the report, where she made another list. The feds didn’t like to read, she was aware of it, so her lists were appreciated for the time efficiency.

But this time she had to pick her own brain to decide whether or not she attributed Karampelos and Mallen with derivative forms of paranoia and psychosis. What she diagnosed would impact their work and how the officials would judge them in the treatment of Moore’s illness and death.

A familiar, warm smell took her thoughts off the case and she saw a male hand placing a ceramic mug on her desk. Ashley smiled as she saw the coffee that Rivera left for her, passing by. He was wearing a new shirt, always black and with long sleeves, and he’d shaven his face smooth of his earlier stubble. She took a sip of the hot beverage and focused back on her work.

Came lunch time the neuroscanning robot entered the medical bay and they took turns sitting in front of it. It used a bio-scanner to detect any traces of pathogens, and their heads were swept with MRI tech. Ashley couldn’t get passed the knot in her stomach that reminded her that she wasn’t a model of mental health. She kept her hands steady on her lap and made minimal eye movements. Once it was over she returned to her temporary work station without even addressing anyone a look of sympathy.

She was supposed to bug out of that place in two days. There was no point in making friends with anybody. And, symmetrically, no one came to bother her with any sort of comment but distant looks. Remi seemed numb and self-absorbed while Jorge was spending all of his time watching television programs. And Rivera, Ashley had no idea what he was doing. From the sound of the plumbing she knew he was taking two showers a day and had his meals alone. Perhaps he was working on his own reports.

The next morning Ashley went to the medical waiting room where the hazmat team was waiting with the scanning robot and sampling tools. Remi and Jorge arrived late, reluctant to submit to the tests.

“Come on now,” said the scientist with augmented eye bionics. His voice had a comical overtone in his helmet. “It’s just policies.”

The other science tech who handled the biopsy syringe looked less cheerful.

“We found what was left of Mister Moore and we weren’t able to isolate the pathogen, or any trace of foreign bacteria.”

Ashley searched his bitter, disappointed face for an explanation. She knew what he was saying but didn’t understand how they’d fail to find the cause of rapid biological decomposition.

“Nothing disappears without a trace,” she told, handing out her bare arm to get over with the biopsy.

A slight pinch followed by a sting meant that her blood and tissues were being severed and extracted from her in a matter of a micro-second. The other tech placed a circular bandage on the puncture and she left her place to Rivera.

“You would have to go back to the source,” Remi said, her face grim. “When the seisms start.”

“It doesn’t matter,” replied the biopsy tech, pressing his trigger to make Rivera flinch slightly under the needle. “There was no contamination risk in the medbay. According to your own report, Moore inflicted the damage to himself outside of the module and was negligent as to safety procedures. Whatever happened to him won’t happen again.”

Pulling his sleeve down, Rivera gave Ashley a knowing look of cynicism. Remi underwent the sampling process and waited for Jorge to have his done, keeping quiet but her eyes were agitated. Once they were all four again Ashley touched her elbow, stopping Remi from leaving just yet.

“So what if they shut down the dig site, you can always expose your results to a proper scientific commity and lead your own research team in the future.”

The suggestion seemed to only make Remi less inclined to calm down. “It would have to be here, where the technonic plates are in a specific configuration. But what do you know...”

“I know that it’s an old planet and rocks have waited billions of years to be discovered. You can wait a few more years before coming back.”

Tired, brimming gray eyes looked at her and Rivera and Remi pinched her lips in utter despair.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t count on either of you to keep a secret, can I? The word will get out, and this place will be crawling with private corporation investors before I even get to catch a ride home.”

“Well, I’m running out of options here,” Ashley replied with her most honest voice. “I’m not interested in resource exploitation or exobacteriology...”

She lifted her gaze and checked what Rivera was going to say. He was staring at the floor between all of them and taking deep breaths. Hands in his pockets, Jorge gave Ashley a disapproving jerk of his head.

“Someone as naive as you will start blabbing as soon as someone buys you a drink.”

“Hey,” she shot back before she could react emotionally, “that kind of attitude won’t help.”

“Say what you want now, but I’m not stupid.”

Rivera folded his arms together, and stood a little taller to shut everyone’s mouth.

“I can promise you one thing: SCI will keep a close watch on the both of you for misuse of federal equipment and resources. You will be processed and trialed for reckless endangerment and illegal practice of foraging despite the Environmental Conservation Code. Whatever you do afterwards will be worthless. Even if a private corp takes on your research they would pay you enough to step aside and disappear.”

“So you’re just gonna let the big dogs have it,” hissed Remi, unmoved by his warnings.

“You’re delusional,” Rivera replied condescendingly. “We tried to help, and you may be alive now but you just dug your own grave if you persist with your project.”

Ashley couldn’t relax the frown she was making as she listened to the exchange of accusations. When Rivera was done talking he pulled up his sleeves and removed the bandaid from his arm. Remi looked at him curiously.

“Are you asking us to forget about everything? And let Adrian’s death be for nothing?”

“His death means everything.” He folded the bandaid into a little square. “If you had any consideration for his life or your own you’d never have gone into that cave without proper supervision.”

Before leaving he tossed the piece of paper into a recycling bin and gave Ashley a little nod. She avoided looking at either Jorge or Remi as she left them to argue in the waiting room.

  
  


The doctor’s lounge was a spacious, comfortable room with motes of dust shining visibly under the dim lights. The drink and food dispensers were offline, however, but they were given a kettle with a box of instant tea and coffee. Ashley prepared a jug of hot water as Rivera sat spread-legged in a large salon chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It had to be said, they’re not ready to face the real world,” she commented, sitting beside him in a seat that was too soft and too low for her liking. “Are you alright?”

Rivera bent forward and leaned towards the table to choose a packet of tea for himself.

“It’s been a long week,” he answered, “but thanks for asking. I could really use a smoke, though.”

“Only two days to go,” she said, smiling kindly. “Anything to look forward to, after this?”

He poured hot water in her mug before making his tea. “Just down time until they need me again. I usually stay home and wait for the next call.”

That surely wasn’t a healthy lifestyle despite his apparantly balanced character. Ashley had chosen work over having a private life, but it wasn’t something she wished upon anyone.

“I have a family dinner to attend,” she said to fill the lul in the conversation. “Which is basically two hours of people telling me that I’m no good.”

She kept her eyes into her mug of black hot coffee to avoid any looks of pity. Rivera sounded bored.

“Don’t you have a husband to have your back at these things?”

“Do I look like I’m married?” she chuckled sorely. “Anyway it wouldn’t do any good. I’ve derailed from the family business, and I’m sure they want to introduce me to some old PhD or CEO client to save face.”

He didn’t reply immediately, sipping tea as if it was still too hot to drink and letting her words ring in her head. Ashley already felt like she’d spoken too much and given too many details about her state of mind.

“That sucks,” he remarked, his sideways look strangely comforting her. “I lost my family during the Restoration Wars, they were living in the Minkar system.”

“Oh-- I’m sorry to hear that...”

“No worries, it was ten years ago.” His brow was lowered and he stared into the distance ahead of him. “Their colony was rebuilt and it’s at peace now. I’ve gone back a few times, for closure, and it’s no so bad. They could have stayed in New Mexico where I was born but nothing’s ever that easy. Not while crawling in debt.”

Ashley smiled again, trying not to look too dumb as she admitted to herself that her problems were trivial in comparison to what he’d gone through. She’d never left Earth during the Restoration Wars and those tragedies were always at a safe distance from her friends and family.

“I’m sorry for unloading,” he said, the shadow of an embarrassed smile on his lips. “But you’re a shrink so I thought, why not get a free session?”

She could only laugh and continue feeling melancolly towards her situation. Rivera didn’t pull his gaze from her and it locked her movements as if she got frozen, anxious to hear him say anything.

 _Let the moment pass_ , she told herself, over and over.

.

For the remainder of her time Ashley lied on her bed, pretending to read when she was actually deciding whether she would attend her family dinner or not. It would be happening at the same usual place, in a classy restaurant where all the fat cats of the industry liked to gather. Her sister would flaunt her nicest ball gown and jewelry while her parents would repeat to her the same contemptuous remarks about her lifestyle. Or they would say nothing at all to her, which was worse. Her head started pounding and she slept for what seemed like a few minutes.

Though when she woke up again there was a tray placed on her table and the food had gone cold when she tasted it. A bowl of cereal and vegetable soup with some fruit and crackers. She wanted to believe that Rivera had put it there...

Her throat locked up when she tried to eat. After showering, she had all of her things packed and ready to go. She even put on her thick winter coat and boots to face the snowy surface of the polar climate.

Someone knocked at her door and she looked up to see Rivera in full combat suit again, holding his helmet in his left arm. Ashley curved her lips upward but didn’t feel like talking. His eyes fell on her hands and he stayed outside the door, leaving room for her to come out.

“It’s time.”

Morroe was first to welcome her to ground level when she got out of the elevator, and he sported a dissatisfied look on his face, the one most men had when they were kept aside of the action.

“Alien bacteria, huh?”

“There’s no evidence that it’s alien yet,” she replied, then he lead her towards the hallway. “Will you get a chance to see the dig site for yourself?”

“That’s of no interest to me, young lady.” They were surrounded by ISF troopers and she recognized the entrance hatch. “And I’m sure you’ll have other fish to fry once you get out of this freezer.”

She gave a look around and only saw helmeted faces, gray combat suits and weapons. Morroe smirked at her and patted her shoulder warmly.

“Take care of yourself, Doc.”

Two soldiers escorted her towards the deafening sound of the dropship landed nearby in the snow. The cold slapped her face and she pulled the hood down on her head, walking unsteadily towards the ship. A faceless man with his foot on the boarding ramp extended a hand to help up aboard and she turned around to see a lonely dark bunker in the white of the scenery. No one else followed her. Her throat tightened and her face managed to feel warm even in the winter temperature. She mentally said farewell and turned around to climb into the military aircraft.

  
  


##

**Mars Orbital Terminal**

  
  


From her hotel in the transport hub level she had access to an environmental park, only disturbed by the sound of captive birds, themselves accustomed to the roaring ship and taxi engines. She walked along the paths, meeting businessmen and women who were busy on their comms devices before their next deployments. There were couples and families staying at the hotel but they were in cafes and restaurants. The shopping center one level below was crawling with transit passengers eager to spend their credits on a last minute gift.

Ashley sat herself on a stone bench and looked up at the artificial sky, a holographic projection meant to condition the inhabitants of the station to daytime living. It was displaying a blue sky and some white clouds as if they’d never left Earth, and it was set every twelve hours to fade to dusk and become clear, letting the shine of the stars appear in the darkness of space. Ashley had seen it, and the surface of Mars would come through as well, depending on the day of the week. A cool breeze of acclimated air sent shivers through her spine.

She brought her scarf tighter around her neck and dug her hands into her jacket pockets. Only five hours before leaving again... This time, it was back to Earth. A robotics company needed her express analysis on an A. I. project. She was assigned to evaluate the mental stability of the workers in charge of programming new generation worker robots. If those robots were taught ethics and morals by normal people, they would behave normally. As normal as a thinking robot would be. There would be no life-threatening risks and she wouldn't be trapped under hundreds of meters of iced rocks. She would be free but Ashley kept her family dinner at the top of mind. She'd need to buy a dress, wear fancy shoes and have her hair done... She'd worn the same thing two years in a row and her relatives got suspicious about her actual income. They hadn't spent hundreds of thousands of credits for their first-born to take on a derelict life of adventure and uncertainty.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and inspected her non-manicured fingernails. The buzzing sound of an approaching robot came by, the type of robot that reminded passengers about the imminent departure of their ship. It also serviced the park by picking up discarded pieces of junk on the paths. Ashley ignored it...

"Hello, Miss Huong," said the silver-domed robot with a metallic, pleasing tone. "I couldn't help but notice the extended period of time you have been spending on this spot. May I interest you in a different point of interest on Mars Orbital Terminal? Perhaps a movie at the Martian Theater? The latest releases are featured at all times, as well as the classics."

It kept suggesting things to do until she would react or change her behavior. She'd been reading on studies from her fellow psycho-analysts who had been implementing service robots with notions of suicide-prevention. Robotics laws demanded that every unit be able to prevent the death of humans, even when self-inflicted. They were programmed to observe typical signs such as isolation, immobility and other signals tied to depression before intervening. Their first action was to offer options, suggesting a different pattern of behavior. The second action was conversation, offering some company to the person. The third stage was to signal the closest medical facility or require help from another competent human. Ashley had had many occasions to test the first and second stages of their programming.

She got up from the bench and walked down the paths, with the robot still watching her and eventually returned to his cleaning functions. Such were the limitations of those robots and, if she did decide to kill herself, it would notify a different team of robots that would be tasked to clean up her corpse. People who killed themselves aboard space stations were technical hazards for the air and water recycling systems. There wouldn't be any poetic "cycle of life" logical robots to discard her remains in the shrubberies to feed the plants, as in the greenhouse of Feris Base. And there might not even be any investigation around her death since she wasn't actively working on an assignment, so she was of no consequence on the economy.

And it was convenient for corporations that she would think that way. Work was the easiest and accessible medium for feelings of self-worth. It was the win-win combo, the symbiotic consensus of mass production firms and the interstellar conquest. Ashley tightened the seal of her jacket close to her neck and ignored the people who happened to walk close to her, wrapped in the cozy cynicism of her thoughts.

The view from the hotel restaurant was a striking space-scape of Mars and the nearby docks. She watched freighters, private ships and crafts from the Naval fleet gliding by in total silence. Tiny beams blinked in coded rates and colors like a show of bioluminescence with deep sea jelly fish. Ashley ate her meal of rice salad on a stool while she was viewing her computer tablet. Having cartoons was essential to distract herself for the remaining time on the station. She enjoyed the humorous scenes, her mood alleviated among the stars, space ships and Mars.

“Ashley?”

The distant voice sounded like a mirage in her back, drowned in the voices of actors from the animated show. Ashley turned around, removing her headphones.

“Rivera,” she said, taken aback by the man standing behind her. She paused her video and rose from her stool, extending a hand to greet him. “I didn’t see you there.”

Shaking her hand appeared to require extra effort on his part. He was dressed in jeans and a casual shirt and thoughts tumbled in her head as to why he was there and what did he want.

“I don’t want to bother you for long.” He looked at the paused picture on her screen. “We never got around to debrief on the mission.”

“Oh,” she realized how absent-minded she had been. “Of course. We can do this here?”

It was a very public place to discuss potentially sensitive information. Even though business deals and agreements were discussed there all the time she didn’t like the idea of attracting unwanted attention on either of her or Rivera. He scanned the restaurant from the lobby to the kitchen door. Had he thought it through? She turned off her tablet and caught herself wishing he hadn’t picked that moment to disrupt her meal.

“I just wanted to ask how you were doing,” he said, “since the last time we spoke.”

Surprised, she searched his face for other unspoken questions. “I’m fine. I’m assigned to consult for a robotics facility in Chicago. It’ll be a nice change of pace.”

Rivera stood there looking at her hands when she hid them in her pockets. He obviously cared about her and Ashley couldn’t be more eager to be gone from Mars.

“You did great out there, Doc. By all means if you feel up for another challenge, here’s the link to the SCI desk.”

She looked at the small silver contact card he gave her before keeping it between her fingers.

“What about you? Are you off to solve another mystery?”

“Actually I have a few things to wrap up before the next mission. But if you’re still around in the next couple of days...”

She gestured at the viewport, still holding the contact card. “Well, I’ll be on Earth. Chicago...”

“Ah, yes. Sorry.” Rivera embarrassingly looked at the tip of his boots and crossed his arms. “Can you tell that I’m stepping out of my comfort zone?”

They both smiled and she held herself from taking a step backward. “I avoid these situations like the plague.” Pausing, she mustered her best comical expression on her face. “And I’d rather face a deadly exobacteriological pandemic.”

“But you can throw up like a champ. Gotta respect that.”

She frowned and disapproved of the remnant nauseous feeling in her stomach. Having to converse with a person about her life was sickening enough.

“I apologize,” she told him. “The people I meet on my work assignments are usually gone by the time I’ve submitted my report. So, I know I’m making it difficult...”

Where was she going with this? Rivera nodded, uncrossed his arms and took a slow step backward. Ashley couldn’t stand looking at him any longer.

“Please call that number,” he simply said. “They’ll be expecting you.”

Locking her jaw, she thoughtfully gazed at the contact card. Never before had she bailed on her job to seek something else. More work, probably.

  
  


 

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next episode is Dark Wire: Earth


End file.
